MAN DOWN
by PanicButton
Summary: reidCentric...The team go on a 2 day team building course....but something goes horribly wrong. Adult language in places and scenes.
1. Chapter 1

MAN DOWN

Chapter 1

_**The basic building block of good teambuilding is for a leader to promote the feeling that every human being is unique and adds value: - unknown**_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

**A/N: In a very round about and twisted way this DOES carry on from Maze…You might need to put your brain in sideways to see it. Thank you!! Pb**

* * *

It's Friday night, which is why I am here having a shower at work. Not something I do everyday, but something I started a long time back when I was Gideon's puppy. I would follow him down here and he would shower and I would stand or sit or pace out in the locker room and fire question after question at him. Mostly I would get answers…Sometimes he would ask me to just go home. Then when he left I carried on…every Friday coming down here, because that is what Spencer does on a Friday. A pattern and I like routine. I feel comfortable knowing this is going to happen every Friday.

Anyway…with Gideon gone there seems to be no point in pacing…and there is no one to question on the day's events and so I started to take the shower myself. I would rather be in the tub, the shower I always feel is for sharing. For the first few weeks nothing much changed. I had my shower and then came out and dried and got dressed…then on about the forth week when I came out Hotch was there. He looked over at me and then looked away, and for a minute maybe more I just stood in the opening to the shower block and stared at him. He was silent. He was in his suit and he didn't look like he was going to have a shower.

I wondered…should I say something? Did he need me for something? I really didn't know why he was there just sitting. I pulled my towel closer and went to my locker…this meant I had my back to him and I knew…. I just could tell that he was watching everything I did.

I kept my back to him as much as I could…and I rubbed the towel over myself trying to get dry as quickly as possible and not give him a display I wasn't prepared to give. It wasn't the easiest of things to do and I was still quite damp when I finally pulled on my boxers and shirt…

And then I turned to face him and yes as I thought he was staring at me. I just stared back for a few seconds and then continued to get dressed. He watched every movement. I could see his eyes following my hands as I finger brushed wet hair off my face. I saw the deep intake of breath as I did up my shirt buttons and then pulled on my brown cords. His eyes locked onto my fingers as I did up my belt and buttoned up my fly.

I thought all along that he would say something. But he didn't. Not a word. Not even a 'hello'…silence. It was strange. Like strip show in reverse. I wondered what pleasure he was getting out of watching me get dressed, but there was something…I could see it in the way his eyes avoided mine. I could see the way his fingers dug into his knees when I roughly dried my hair.

That was the first time.

And things never really changed from then on.

I changed a few things just to see how he would react; like turning the water on cold before I got out so that my nipples stood out….or not drying my top half when I put my short sleeved white shirt on so it stuck to my skin and you could see my pinkness through it.

He reacted.

His fingers dug in deeper to his legs and his eyes watched for longer and the intake of breath was deeper and sharper.

I played with him too…by letting the towel slip a bit too low when I had my back to him. It never lasted long. Just a quick flash…but he never moved from the bench. Not once did he speak…and he never did more than watch. Another thing I did was to let my towel slip a bit at the front….not too much…but so that when I stepped from the showers wet and cold my hip bone stood out as I stood and looked at him for a few seconds…standing carefully…all rehearsed. All carefully planned, but I don't know if he knew that.

So anyway – here I am in the shower and I heard the swoosh sound of the locker room door and a small click. I'm not sure what that was; his keys maybe…his cell phone? I stand and soap my hair and tip my head back and plan on what I am going to do to tease him today.

One day I think he might do something. Say something…touch me; breathe on me…

So I wash the soap off and then work on my body. I make slight splashing sounds and squishing sounds with the soap and wonder what he is imagining I am doing. I massage the soap into my chest and over my neck and across my abdomen and I smile secretly to myself. How much pleasure I am giving this one man just by having a shower every Friday evening.

And now I rinse it all off…and I smell sweet…and my skin is rosy and pink from the warm water. A quick blast of cold…just because I think he likes it better if I look less robust and I turn off the water and grab a towel from the shelf. Shake some of the water off my hair which is getting too long again but I know he wont ask me to cut it. I let it drip down my back and run along my knobbly spine and with my right hip bone beautifully on display. I step from the shower block.

"Hi."

It's not Hotch.

"Morgan!"…my voice comes out as a squeak and I suddenly feel a bit vulnerable and exposed. I pull the towel back up and just stand staring at him.

"Who were you expecting? Hotch? He had to go. Got a call and rushed off."

I am standing with my mouth open not sure what to do now.

"Ah." Is all I manage to say.

"So I came down to see what you two get up to in here every Friday."

I clutch my towel tighter to me and say nothing.

"I've been thinking of joining in."

"I don't understand. I've just had a shower Derek." And I am walking to the locker where my clothes are neatly folded. I have to get out of here quickly.

"I know you've just had a shower Spencer."

And my fingers are slipping over the latch on the locker door and I can feel that stupid panicked shake in my voice and the way it rises in pitch and the way I talk too fast and he will know something is wrong…even if nothing is actually wrong…he will know.

A hand rests on my shoulder. "Come on Spencer. What are you being so shy with me for?"

So I turn to face him and my hands are still holding the towel tightly. "Derek – I don't know what you think goes on down here….but I just have a shower and chat to Hotch."

"Chat to Hotch…like you used to chat to Gideon? Like you chat to that guy at that club you go to?"

I feel my legs are going to give way…what does he know? "Have you been following me?"

I look down and his hand is on my chest and gently he is pushing me so my back is tight against the locker doors.

"Not personally…no. I had you followed."

And his face is too close and his body is too close to mine and all I can do is stand and hold my towel and hope someone walks in.

Oh god…

He's locked the doors.

"Derek…What do you want?" I don't want to look into his eyes…I don't want to see what I might see, so I am looking over his shoulder and now his hand is pressing harder on me and the other is pulling my fingers off the towel.

"What do you think I want?"

My fingers are gone from the comforting fabric of the towel now and all that is holding it up is Morgan's body pressed against mine. I put a hand on his chest and try to push him away from me. "Morgan…please don't do this."

"Turn around."

-o-o-o-

I know as soon as he walks through the door.

He is late home.

He is never this late home and I can smell alcohol on his breath.

And so I don't say anything. I wait to see if he does…which he doesn't.

I've spent my day shopping and now I want to put on my clobber and go out…but he is straight into the bathroom and running the water into the tub. He doesn't even say hello to me. I watch him…I lean on the bathroom door frame and just watch and I wait for him to tell me what the fuck is going on and though I think I know – and I don't want to think that….though I think I know what's happened…I don't know for sure…I don't know the details.

Spence turns and looks at me as he begins to strip and shakes his head.

"I don't want to talk about it."

And I don't move…except for sliding my hands into my pockets and continue to watch him.

"Please Floyd. Just let it be."

And still I don't say anything. I am looking though and I can see marks on his skin that weren't there this morning and I'm not stupid. I can see someone has manhandled him roughly. I can see the marks left from the finger tips of someone holding onto him too tightly.

"Who was it?" The smells from the soap are masking some of the smells and I'm finding it hard to focus in on it.

"It's not important. It's over. It doesn't matter."

And he strips off and throws his dirty clothes into the wash basket.

"It's important to me Spence. I don't want to go kill the wrong person." And I take a few steps forwards and run my fingers over the marks on his chest. There are bite marks on his shoulders…but that was me…the finger marks on his chest though…that is someone else and so I lean in and go to inhale his scent but be backs away and puts a hand out and grasps my hand.

"Don't joke about it. It's not funny and it's over. Leave it."

And he is quickly sliding into the soapy water and pulling his skinny body under the foam.

"If someone raped you…then it is a problem…and I'm not going to leave it…and I will find out who it is." I sit on the edge of the bath and look at his face. He is so beautiful….how can anyone want to hurt him? (anyone except me) I splash him with some bubbles.

"I have this long weekend thing coming up…you haven't forgotten have you?"

He has changed the subject and obviously I haven't forgotten…I've have had to make new plans for the whole weekend. Ones I will enjoy…but still it meant making phone calls and booking a hotel room and shit…

"The team bonding crap….no Spencer I've not forgotten… but haven't you done enough team bonding for one day?"

He just gives me his look and slides deeper into the bubbles…

"I will kill him…I will babes." And I get up off the side of the tub and walk over to the door. "We are going out and you are already a few drinks and a fuck up on me." I turn and look at him. "I'll see you there."

Time has taught me that sometimes it is best to walk away rather than take your anger out on the wrong person. I have taken advise….can't remember who from…but I think it was Emily…count to ten….so I do…I stand in the door way and I count to ten…and each number has a different way I will kill agent Derek Morgan attached to it.

-o-o-o-

I missed my date with Reid.

Again I had forgotten something…Jack's follow up appointment at the hospital. Nothing desperate but I wanted to be there…even if it was to make Haley cross that I had remembered. I would be seeing him all weekend though. We have a team bonding thing to do. Make a raft…climb the obstacle course…and a bit of laser tag I think…or paintball…They haven't yet given all the details…It's not a competition…no prizes at the end but we will be graded. Other groups will be there too…with us it will be myself and Dave and Prentiss and Morgan and Reid. JJ is on annual leave and to be honest I think she would be a hindrance.

Sitting at home now….alone…with a drink in my hand and a take out getting cold on the table in front of me. I had wanted to relax this weekend…I don't know….sit on the back porch with a beer and a book…and put my feet in a bucket of cold water….but it's too hot…I missed my Friday appointment and now my weekend is going to be taken up leading what is probably going to be a moody bunch of profilers doing raft making and laser tag when we would all rather be doing something else.

There is one upside.

I will get to see Spencer all sweaty and hot and bothered – but for now it's just me.

I flick through the television channels and settle on turning it off. So much junk is produced these days it makes my head spin. The studios seem to be in competition over who can make the best or is it worst rubbish. I think about listening to music…but that would mean getting up and right now all I want to do is sit here.

And so I close my eyes and think about what I saw last week and I know he is teasing me. I know. I don't know if he realises that…I'm not saying anything all the time he keeps up the nice little floor show for me.

We're not hurting anyone.

He doesn't mind. He obviously doesn't mind. He plays the game…and he plays it oh so very nicely. The slipping of the towel…the water running down his back…the choice of clothing he puts on.

……………..ah now there is another game. He sometimes brings spare clothing. I don't know what he is going to put on until he reaches into the locker and pulls it out.

I lean back and my face is turned to the ceiling and my hands are now on my knees with my drink balanced on the cushion next to me. I can see that mole on his back…I can see the water running out of his hair…that hair I need to tell him to cut…but…

Another sigh. Yes I must tell him to get it cut before Strauss tells me to tell him…just a trim….nothing desperate…so it flicks in at the nape of his neck and I can see that pink, no that white flesh on the back of his neck…that long neck…

I take a long chug from my tumbler and look at the food again. I really should….I need to eat…especially as I don't know what we will get over the next couple of days…only one evening…one sleep…just the one…and again images flicker through my head of a sleeping Reid and how young and pretty he looks. How delicate and vulnerable.

I decide on a cool shower and an early night. I will read….I will find something to read. It's going to be a long couple of days…

As I stand I wonder what Spencer is doing now. He keeps his private life so private. He lets no one in. I did ask him once and he just shrugged and said there was nothing to tell…but there is. I'm a profiler. Does he really think I don't know he has someone?

-o-o-o-

I know what I am going to do.

I know exactly what I will do.

He won't know what's hit him.

Though I think he will guess when he feels the pain and see the blood. If he lives long enough to have thoughts.

And the next couple of days are perfect timing.

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**A/N: Thank you….feed back is loved and rewarded with cookies.**

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	2. Chapter 2 Hurt

Chapter 2

Hurt

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I had no intention of meeting up with Floyd for his fun night out.

I was tired and fed up and pissed off with the world…which is why I am here reading a book…not reading it…looking at the pages if that is even what this is classed as.

He hurt me.

And I don't know why he thought he had the right to do that to me. We have this team building thing tomorrow…I need to be up early and I am already covered in bruises I would rather no one else got to see but I have a funny feeling I am going to be out of luck there.

Putting the book down…I don't even know what it is…just a random thing which I think is Floyd's and not mine anyway….another thing for him to grouch and complain about I expect - wrap my arms around me and think about what Morgan did….and what Floyd is probably doing…and Hotch….they all use then walk off and carry on and leave me here wondering what the heck just happened.

I pace the room for a while – still with my arms around myself and wonder if the person I share my life with will come home tonight. He doesn't always. He comes home stinking of unknown drugs and his pupils so dilated I don't know if he can even see….he staggers in sometimes still half dressed and it's almost like a test – a dare to see if I will say something.

And I never do.

What would be the point?

I have my navy pyjama bottoms on and walk to the kitchen and make a coffee. When I go to open the fridge I see that he has stuck a message on there. I pull it off and look at it. A cartoon face and fancy writing… _'hey babes'_ it says. It makes me smile and suddenly all is forgotten and all is forgiven and I put the bit of paper on the work surface so he knows I've seen it.

An early night is what I want. I'm not looking forwards to tomorrow. I always seem to let the side down…not that there are sides and maybe that is why this is important…but climbing up ropes and sliding in mud really isn't my idea of fun.

I decide against the coffee and make a hot chocolate and stick marshmallows in the top and pad back to the lounge and turn off the lights and right now I really hope that he comes home tonight. I need a bit of just closeness.

In the bedroom I sit on the edge of the bed for a while and go back through again what happened…and I don't know what I will do when I next see Morgan.

I place my glasses on the side and lay back with my eyes shut wondering what hell I will be put through over the next couple of days…and what Floyd will get up to.

How long I have been here for I don't know…but I must have drifted off to sleep.

"Spence."

It makes me jump. Floyd is shaking me gently. "Hey." I smile at him…this is good…this is what I needed.

"Get up."

I lay there and frown at him.

"You don't mind sleeping on the couch do you?"

And now I am confused. "What? Why?"

"I brought someone home with me…we need the bed."

I feel my eyes go wide and my skin prickle with sweat…. "You what?"

"Well I figured if you can fuck Agent Derek Morgan at work I can fuck Ardal in our bed. Get out." And now he is dragging me by my arm out of my bed.

"Floyd! No! Stop…this is my bed for……………" and I am shut up by the slap across the mouth.

"Don't lip me Spencer. Get out."

I put my hand to my mouth and look at him and then at the figure standing in the doorway and then back at Floyd. "You are unbelievable Floyd." I hiss at him, and I walk towards the door where Ardal suddenly moves quickly from.

"And take these." And my glasses fly through the open doorway and smack against the hall way wall…As I bend down to pick them up my mug of chocolate smashes above my head. "And this." Then the door slams shut and I am left crouching in a puddle of cocoa in my hallway wondering how being raped can result in this.

My glasses are broken. They nearly always are. I pick them up and put them on the small hallway cupboard. Wonderful…team bonding and I will be half blind. Just what I need. I look behind me at the bedroom door and sigh. He can be a bastard sometimes….excuse my language.

I slouch my way to the couch and just sit. How can I sleep when I can hear all that is going on in the next room…I'm sure Ardal and Floyd don't make that much noise for me.

So I am still sitting here and the birds are awake and there is a crack of light across the floor and I have to go and get my things for the next two days. My bag is packed and in the bed room…and my clothes are folded in the drawers and cupboards. I have no option. I can't be late. Hotch is picking me up outside in…..

…..let me check my watch….ah…..my watch which I think Floyd borrowed again. It's moot really. I still have to go and get my things and they are still in there.

I get up and slowly as I can without standing still or going backwards make my way to the bedroom. It is quiet in there now…that's something I suppose. I put my hand on the door handle and push it down. The door opens silently and I walk in.

I look at the tangle of arms and legs on my bed and it makes me feel sick. And it hurts. It hurts a lot. They will be here all weekend – and I will be out in that horrible blazing heat getting sunburn and blisters.

Floyd turns to look at me.

"What?"

and I shrug at him and open the drawers and pull out light cotton slacks and a loose fitting shirt….a random pair of socks which don't match and a pair of off white boxers. I then grab my bag and start to leave the room.

"I don't get a kiss goodbye?"

I close the door behind me before he can see how much what he has done has hurt. I want him to think I don't care.

………….but he knows….and I know…..I should have fought off Morgan. I should have come home with bloody knuckles and a black eye……I shouldn't have just given in like I did.

-o-o-o-

When I get to Reid's apartment he is outside waiting with his bag…sitting looking rather dejected on the small wall. He walks over and opens the back door and places his bag on the seat. Then he gets in the front and straps himself in. All done in silence.

"Is something wrong?" I wonder if it is because I wasn't there last night but really I dare not hope he would miss me to this extent.

"I'm fine."

But he's not.

The way he is sitting….the way his hands twist in his lap…the way he won't look at me. Something is wrong and unless he tells me what is going on it's not going to make for a very good weekend.

"Did something happen last night?" and as I pull out and drive off I see his eyes flash over to me. "So talk to me Spencer. What's wrong?"

And he sighs. "It's personal Hotch. I don't really want to talk about it."

Then I am set to wondering if it is woman trouble…He's never mentioned a girl….or a boy for that matter….and I glance over at him. "We are friends Spencer…you can tell me…I won't judge you."

But of course I will. It's my place to judge him and pull him into shape and make a better profiler out of him…isn't that what part of this stupid weekend is all about anyway?

"Girl trouble?"

and he snorts and makes a small laughing sound. "No Hotch…not girl trouble."

This time I think he is telling the truth.

The rest of the journey is made almost in silence. I watch him from the corner of my eye and he spends most of the time just staring out of the window. I don't know what happened the night before but something has upset him and until he relaxes a bit more I'm not going to get out of him what it is.

We pull up in the parking lot and Prentiss and Morgan are already there nattering away to each other. I slide out of the car and wait a while as Spencer follows and gets his bag out of the back of the car. Both Derek and Emily are in combat pants and tight fitting Tshirts. They look ready for any challenge. I walk towards them and it's beginning to feel good now. We are just waiting for Rossi, but Spencer just stands next to the SUV and puts his back to us and I am beginning to seriously worry about how this is going to turn out this weekend.

Prentiss and Morgan are a bit gung ho about it all and I think might get pushy so that is something to think about…and now here's Dave and oh…he has shorts on…now there's a sight for sore eyes. We need to go to the meeting point now and collect our instructions for the day and hand over our things…no cell phones…no guns – obviously. Just us….But Spencer still hasn't said a word.

I excuse myself from the rest of the team and walk over to Reid who is keeping his distance from us. "Reid…this isn't a very good start. Can you come and join us please?" But I can see how white and sweaty he looks….how dark the skin is under his eyes and I wonder if there is more going on with Reid than I want to think. "You don't look well." Is what I actually say to him.

He shakes his head at me. "I had a rough night. I didn't sleep well…I'm just a bit tired….I'll be fine once we get started and I can focus on something." But I'm not convinced. He looks ill – or….but again I don't want to think about it. "I had a few drinks last night. I've got a headache." He says…running finger through his hair which look fragile and I don't think he is going to be doing much rope climbing today.

"That wasn't the best thing to do knowing what you had on today." Again I'm not saying what I am thinking and I wonder if he knows.

"At the time .." And his voice sounds snappy at me. "I wasn't thinking of today." And again I wonder if this is because I didn't meet him in the showers…He is cross with me…Do I allow myself the luxury of thinking he needs that time we have?

I touch his arm gently but he pulls away from me. "Hotch – Please don't. Just don't touch me." And he is walking to where he needs to put his bag and hand over his cell phone. I watch him sign his name in and I am worried about him.

Quickly I walk to Rossi and pull him aside. He is in a good mood too and I hope Spencer's mood doesn't pull us all down. I can feel mine slowly sinking. "Dave we need to keep an eye on Reid. I'm not sure what's going on with him but something's happened."

And Dave looks over at Spencer and then back at me. "He looks a bit under the weather."

"I think he is hungover. The reason why he would be drinking is what I am worried about."

And I get a nod from Dave. "I'll keep my eye on him."

-o-o-o-

It's time to get moving….thank goodness….I want to get out there and do stuff not stand here sweating in the sun…I push my new short hair cut off my face and smile at Morgan. "We're gonna kick butt." I say with a grin and he slaps me on my shoulder. "Go girl." He says back in a patronising fashion but I let it go this time. We walk as a raggedy group to the station where they give us our first lot of instructions.

There are a group of warehouses…On the other side of river…out job is to get across the river (without getting wet) using the materials provided and find the 'treasure' in the warehouses…the thing is….there are snipers….They hand out the jackets….

…………paintball snipers.

"We are going to get covered in paint?" Reid says as he puts the vest on and picks up the protective helmet.

I put my hand on his back and laugh. "The point is that we don't get covered in paint." But he pulls away and spins on me looking from me to Morgan then to Rossi and back again. And I'm not sure if he knows if I am joking or not.

-o-o-o-

He won't look at me.

After yesterday.

And it was good. He didn't fight me off. I told him to turn around and he could have said no….but he didn't. He turned around and let me have him.

……………not the first either….someone has that boy regularly…that skinny guy I have photos of…or the tall wavy haired one…seems he has two on the go….who would have thought that of Spencer. The kid….the one we need to protect.

I've tried to make eye contact with him. I think maybe a regular date in the showers might be on the cards – if I play my hand right…and he didn't complain about my hand last night.

I make such a thing about the girls….

A smoke screen…I don't mind either really. Depends on the mood you know…but he's in a bad one today. Hotch has had words with him and now he is snapping with Emily. This is going to be a great damned weekend with that wet rag following us around.

-o-o-o-

I am watching them.

They are talking and gesticulating…but my target is an easy pick.

This is going to be fun.

Hotchner and Rossi…they are giving instructions on how to tie knots by the looks of it.

Reid is standing back arms crossed; a frown on his pretty face.

Prentiss is jumping in and out of the project and giving instructions which I don't really think are needed.

Morgan….he is there too. Showing what a big man he is.

The team

Pathetic.

Pop

Pop

Pop

Soon boys and girls soon.

I kick at the body at my feet.

He was easy.

Too easy.

And I have such a good view from here that I can see from the plans given to the paintballers where they all are.

I've gotten rid of all but three….but I don't want to spoil all of the fun. I just don't want them coming up and finding me here…not yet anyway.

Ah…good good…the raft didn't sink but Reid still managed to fall in. This is amusing. The lad is soaking wet. I'm watching him through my sights watching him try to wring out his shirt…

"That's going to slow you down." And I permit myself a small giggle and watch him through my sights again…. "Head? Chest? Back? Oh so much choice."

Now I move onto Hotchner. "And you – what about you."

Ah they are moving again…Good boy Reid…he's taken off the helmet and is walking behind the others…this is good…I can still see him….oh this is going to be such fun!

But I have to wait. I have to wait for those paintballers to open fire on them…

One two three four….come on boys don't let me down now…I'm ready for them…I can see them….where the hell are you?

YES!

Rossi gets one on the chest and Morgan is shouting 'down'….Lets shut him up first….

Swing around and a lovely almost silent pop and he is on his face in the dirt. Next…who next…so much choice…Hotchner…

One two three pop….and down he goes….and oh he is rolling around shouting…..

Reid…let me see…

One two three pop!! Damn…he moved…but I got him…he's on the floor and they are all shouting and a hollering…and now I need to change position.

-o-o-o-

Something is wrong.

I look at Ardal who is still sleeping and frown. Something is wrong with Spencer.

…………………..but I don't want to leave him………Spence is just on a motivational weekend…what can go wrong?…he has Hotchner there….and….and Morgan….

He wouldn't dare.

He wouldn't bloody dare touch my Spence….

So with that knowledge firmly in my happy head I roll over and snuggle back up with Ardal.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3 The Game

Chapter 3

The Game

* * *

It was going badly before I slipped….now they have had their laugh and hopefully this will be over real soon.

I am soaked to the skin and there is dirty river water in my hair…so as the others walk on chattering and enjoying themselves I take off this stupid but necessary rubber helmet and empty is of water. I am almost expecting fish to fall out of my hair.

My clothes are stuck to me and I feel a fool

I'm glad it happened now though really. Get it out of the way. Give them something to snigger at.

Oh man I am in a bad mood today.

I wring my shirt out a bit where it is hanging out under my protective vest. I know…I know if I get hit by one of those paintball pellets that it's going to hurt.

At least I am walking behind them. At least they can't see the annoyed way I am walking. Rossi is up front and I am thinking about putting my helmet on again when he shouts out and puts his hand to his chest.

'Down!' Morgan shouts and then sort of flops to the floor.

Rossi is face down in the dirt and Prentiss is rolling out of the way as Hotch flies backward with an 'umphing' sound then something catches my shoulder….

……………..it hits so hard that it knocks me to the ground and in the sudden confusion I wonder how a pellet can hurt this much… but then as I roll and try to find something to shelter behind I realise that it's blood.

Someone shot me!

I get to my hands and knees and look over at Prentiss who is moving quickly towards a low building off to the side….she is nearly there when she screams and falls to the floor holding her leg….

………………………For a second I don't know what to do. Rossi is moving slowly towards Hotch who is groaning and clutching at his stomach……We've all been shot? How the heck can this happen?

Dave is looking at me and looking at the river and he gives a quick nod….I don't think twice…I get up and start to run for the raft and the river….I am so nearly there….I am wondering if I should just swim when something hits the back of my head. It smacks hard and stops me in my tracks….the world starts to spin and I can feel the blood from my shoulder running down my arm…and now something wet on the back of my head and I can smell the oil of the paintball pellet.

……………………I turn slowly to face the team laying bleeding and screaming in the dirt as something hits the side of my head and the world suddenly goes dark.

-o-o-o-

Hotch has taken a hit in the side of his lower abdomen. I'm crawling towards him hearing his moanings and listening to Prentiss howl in pain. Run Spencer…get out of here now….

…….I look at him and nod at the river and he is up and running.

"It's OK Hotch. Reid's going for help." I say as I place my hand over the bleeding hole on Aarons protective jacket. Protection against paintball pellets…not against snipers.

I look up again at Spencer just as something red explodes on the back of his head and he is dead. I there is no way he can survive that…..but he has stopped moving forwards and slowly turns on the spot. I can see the confused look on his face as something green smacks against the side of his head. Paint. It's paint….but he's not got his helmet on and the force of the hit puts him back on the ground again.

"Damnit." He's out cold by the looks of it. "Derek." I can just about reach his leg from where I am, but I don't want to move…I don't want to get in the line of fire of the bullets or the paint. "Derek!" and I give him a shake but he's not moving. I turn my attention back to Hotch. "Aaron." He has his eyes shut and he is taking deep breaths. "I need you to keep pressure on this." And firstly I open up the front of this stupid vest thing and then I take his hand and place it on the hole in his white flesh. My hands are covered in blood, yet I seem to be the only one not injured.

"Reid…." Hotch breathes the shuddery word.

…………….. I can't tell him…but I can't lie to him either. "Reid is fine. Worry about yourself. Keep the pressure on here Aaron…I need to help Prentiss."

"Morgan?" And I push Aaron's hand down hard. "I said worry about yourself." And quickly I start to crawl away and slither as quickly as I can to Emily. She has stopped the painful howling she was making and is just laying in a puddle of blood and I'm worried. I don't like this. I glance over at Reid again who is groaning and rolling over onto his back.

"Reid! Stay….don't move." I instruct and he lays deadly still in the dirt doing as I asked. I can see the way his chest is rising and falling that he is breathing deeply trying to stay calm. This is good. This is what I need him to do.

It's just as I reach Prentiss that it happens…something smacks into my back and I suddenly can't move. It doesn't hurt, but I know it's a chest hit. My breaths are bubbling and painful and I can taste the blood in my mouth. I want to reach out to Emily and let her know I am there. I need to tell Spencer to get away but I can't and everything is going foggy and dull.

……………………I cough…………………….

-o-o-o-

"Rossi." I call out, but get no reply. What the hell is going on here? Who the hell is firing at us?

My hand is pressed down hard on the place the bullet entered. I can feel the big wet bloody mess spreading around my fingers and the pain is shooting down my left leg. "Dave!" I call out again but get nothing.

"Hotch."

Reid's voice.

I turn my head and it hurts so much my eyes are watering but I am in charge and the only person still with it seems to be Reid. He needs to get out of here now.

"Can you move?" I ask him. I am trying to work out where the sniper is….but the trajectory has altered….whoever it is has moved…or there is more than one person.

"I think so."

And I can see him out of the corner of my eye and he is laying with a small patch of blood seeping out onto the ground.

"You've been hit?"

"I'll be alright. I'll go and get help."

But I need to be the one moving and getting the help and sorting it out. I don't want Spencer to have this responsibility over his head. This is my job not his. I roll carefully to my side and try to keep my hand pressed onto the wound but moving has made it bleed again. We are all going to lay here in the hot sun and die.

I manage to roll over onto my front and I can see him properly now…he also has crawled to his hands and knees but I can see blood on his back…the bullet must have passed right through…I want to ask him to hurry up but I can tell by the way he is moving that he is pain. Though he's trying his best not to show it. The heat of the sun is almost unbearable and I can feel it hitting the back of my neck. The rest of the guys are just laying unmoving…I have to help…

……………I have to help Reid get out of here……………

Trying to keep one hand on the sticky patch on my side I attempt to get to my knees and it is as I am doing this that it starts again.

……………….the dust flies up inches from my face…getting in my eyes as a bullet smacks into the ground.

I hear a yelp of surprise and I quickly try to get the dust out of my eyes again so I can see what is going on.

Spencer is face down in the dust again with his hands wrapped around his head. I can see the cracking of gunfire around him. As with me…inches from his head and around his feet.

"Don't move!" I call out. "Spencer don't move."

But I don't think he is going to right now. I don't think he would anyway.

Whoever this is – whoever is the sniper is….he – or she – is playing games now.

-o-o-o-

Oh this is funny.

I bet the kid has wet him self with fear….I hope he has.

Pop

Again…see him jump…..soon every soon….

Hotchner you need to keep still…I want to see the boy suffer a bit more first.

A quick blast with the paint gun I think…

One on the back of the head for Hotchner….

Ha! That kept his head down….don't move…don't move…I want to see the boy think he can save you all….

This is too amusing….I am beginning to laugh and that's not good….my aim will be out….ah shit….

Bugger….I hit Hotchner on the leg….

A nice howl of pain though and yes the boy is moving in….Come on Spencer…Save the day!

I wish I could hear what they are saying…

Time to move.

Just a little bit…around aways slightly …. Different angles….to confuse them.

-o-o-o-

I want to get up and run to Hotch…but he is hissing commands at me…telling me to get out now…run…get out of here….and so I do…I just stand and run….and I can almost feel the bullets tearing into my back as I do but nothing happens. I reach the river's edge and throw myself flat and roll into the water.

I take the chance to quickly wash some of the paint off me…the smell is making my eyes water…and then I can't see too well anyway because Floyd broke my glasses. I take some deep breaths. I need to get across the river now without the sniper seeing me and the only way I can think of doing that is to move down the river until I have cover from one of the buildings.

My arm is slowly going numb which doesn't help.

I thought sliding in mud was a nightmare…I have no idea what this is….what is going on. Keeping my head down slowly I walk along the very edge of the river. It's about fifty foot across at this point and pretty fast flowing. My trainers are slipping on the mud at the edge and I can't see properly what I am doing but I just need to get that building in the way then I will try to…………..

Then I hear it……

…………"Get back here boy before I take Hotchner's head off."

And I freeze. I keep my head down and I try to control my breathing because my breaths have started to come in the short sharp shallow intakes I recognise as the beginning of a panic attack. Resting my head on the mud at the side of the river bank I keep as still as I can.

My orders were clear…to get out…but if the guy doesn't know where I am……………………

……………..I can't leave Hotch…..

"Get back here before I start opening fire boy!"

I think….I have to think…I don't know the voice…which in a sad but comforting way is good. Not that I expected it to be Floyd….He wouldn't use guns….not after…….

Well he just wouldn't….

I hear the pop of the silenced gun and a grunt from someone but I can't tell who it was.

"Oh god…no…he is killing the team….he is killing them and it's somehow my fault."

-o-o-o-

Prostitutes know all the best tricks…and Ardal knows his job.

He is just about to get me all fired up again when it happens.

A feeling of such great fear that I roll to the side of the bed and vomit on the floor.

I can feel Ardal's hand on my back gently rubbing… "Floyd?"

"Get off …get out… get out!" and I am sliding off the bed and through the warm mess on the floor and dragging an old pair of jeans out of the cupboard. "Ardal….get the fuck out…now." I don't bother to check if he is moving…I know he will do what I tell him….he always does. A Tshirt joins the jeans which I quickly tuck in then a long sleeved shirt I pull out of the wardrobe and tie around my waist. I pull on a pair of battered boots and glance at Ardal who is quickly pulling on his clothes and looking worried.

My wallet is on the side so I grab it and pull out a handful of notes and place them on the side. "I'll call you…Let yourself out." And I am making my way to the door grabbing my shades and bike keys on the way.

I don't know exactly where he is….I will have to follow the fear… and it's increasing…not because I am getting closer but because something is happening….and if Derek Morgan has anything to do with this sudden fear I will rip his balls off.

………….no wait………….

I'm going to do that anyway.

Fucktard…………….messing with me when you mess with Spencer ….you should know that.

I wanted to have my fun with Ardal before I had to deal with Derek Morgan………………

But still there is something wrong…….maybe it's not him……?

What in the name of hades is going on?

………………………..the feel of the wind in my hair….the freedom of the bike…feeling it vibrate between my legs………..the sirens in the distance…..the fucking blue flashing lights………………….

I pull over….. "Why? Why now? I don't want blood all over my stuff before I even get there."

-o-o-o-

I pull myself out of the water and just stand there. I know I am going to die. I know it. I just hope that it's quick. I look over at Hotch who is laying still now, but I think it was Dave who was hit again by the looks of the blood on his arm.

"Move closer." The voice bellows at me and I try to work out where it is coming from but that acoustics in this place are odd and I can't work it out.

"Closer!" and there is a puff of dust as a round enters the ground to my side. "Keep walking."

"What do you want?" I call back…I try to keep my voice steady…I try to not sound as terrified as I feel but I'm not sure that it works.

"Just keep walking Dr Reid…Just do as you are told and everything will be fine."

But I don't know how it can be fine. I need assurance from someone. I need to know I am doing the right thing here and there is nothing. Derek hasn't moved since he fell and I wonder if he is dead…and my feelings I had for him earlier make me angry because I wanted to shout at him and hit him and tell him what he did was wrong, but now I don't think I can. I keep walking…and at the points I slow down I am reminded to keep going.

"The building in front of you Dr Reid. There is a pistol in there somewhere. Your job….find it….find me. Save your friends."

And I look into the pitch darkness of the doorway directly in front of me. He is letting me get out of range of fire….but…..

The others…………….

I have to hurry.

-o-o-o-

And it's a pisser cos I don't really have time to eat now….so I will have to have take out….

And that makes me laugh.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4 The Dark

Chapter 4

The Dark

* * *

I was distracted.

That is my excuse and I am sticking to it.

Just a quick bite…as I had previously emptied my stomach contents onto the bedroom floor…didn't take long…I didn't think…

…………………and with this problem with Spencer going on in my head…and I'm still not sure what is wrong there…well I got distracted.

Now – is not the time….to go losing my brains. Now is the time to attempt to talk my way out of this shit….but there are rather a lot of them…and they are all shouting at me and two of them are throwing up into the somewhat Sparse undergrowth and there are – let me count –

………………..six big guns….and I mean big…not hand guns these…big mothers and they are pointed in the general direction of my brain…..the one I keep in my skull.

The two officers I had dealt with previously are sort of dead. Sort of very dead…Irretrievably dead in many ways…and I have a nice taste of pig in my mouth but I don't think these blokes with the big guns and the vomit are going to listen to me.

"On your face….hands behind your head." Someone is shouting at me….but ….no….I don't think I want to do that….So I wipe the mess off my face and look over at the bloke – probably the one in charge and he is holding a side arm.

"Officer." I am going to attempt to be polite. "I think you have misunderstood the situation." I think they really might have.

"On your face now….hands behind your head?" And I can hear the Mexican wave of guns being cocked and now I am getting annoyed.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I ask…still staying polite…I can do it.

"My problem is punk, that you are not doing what you're being told to do and you have murdered two cops."

I don't like being called a punk. What I have done here I have done with a sort of peaceful decorum. They really do not understand. I start to stand and catch the waggle of gun barrels out of the corner of my eye.

"Look…I am in a hurry. My friend is in some sort of panic…and I need to go and sort it out. So if you don't mind pointing those things at someone else…." And I wipe the muck off my fingers onto my jeans legs. "I'll be off. Nice meeting you guys. A shame you didn't turn up earlier…we could have done lunch."

I take a step towards my bike and they are shouting at me again…..

"Don't move!"

but I am on my feet….still not on my face in the dirt and so I think I might be able to do this….shit…what a bloody day I'm having…thought I was going to have fun with Ardal and now this crappola.

When I take my next step I hear the crack of a gun firing…and I feel my leg give way under me and suddenly I am on my knees in the sodding dirt with a hole in the back of my knee…and the front of my knee…the bastard shot me….

"For fuck's sake…what did you shoot me for?" They are clearly insane….

And they are now next to me and the cold of the gun barrels are pressed against the side of my face and the small of my back and this shit just isn't happening!

"Hands behind your back NOW!" and I don't move so they grab my arms and they are pulling them behind my back and they use fucking flexicuffs on me and I can't get out of these bitches.

One of the sonsofbitches cracks me around the side of the head with the butt of his gun….I turn and look at him… "What the fuck is your problem?!" And the butt of the gun smashes against my teeth and if I wasn't falling back into the sodding earth I would have ripped the bastard apart, but they are just standing there now and I am on my back with my hands behind my back and I think they might have pissed me off just a tad.

"You need to let me go or you will really fucking regret what you are doing."

And I get a boot between the legs for that…They seem a bit surprised that I'm not screaming and crying, but I don't wanna give then the satisfaction that they are fucking well hurting me…the bastards. I need to get up and talk my way out of this but I don't think that they are listening to me.

…………………..I am taking deep breaths and trying to rip my hands out of these cuff things but it's not working too well. "You really need to listen to me." I try….but this just results in.

"Just shut the fuck up!" and someone else's gun makes contact with me….my ribs this time…and I just lay there and look at them…I'm sure…very sure…I know…that if I do something they consider a threat I will have more than one of those bullets ripping into my skull.

"I need to ch………………"

but I don't even get to finish what I'm saying this time as something hits me in the face again….

"Just for fucks sake! Listen to me!"

"One more word and I will take your head off."

And that makes me think…cos I don't think growing a complete new head is something I will find too easy to do.

"I need………………"

But yeah…..the guns are pressing against me…so for now I shut up…but I know ….I just know that Spencer needs me and these fucks are probably going to get him killed.

"You fuckers." I snarl….and everything sort of goes dark for a while.

-o-o-o-

The place is so dark that even the light from outside doesn't seem to make a dent in this. The fact that my glasses are in bits on the hall table doesn't help…I take a deep breath and put my hand out to touch the edge of the building. I have no idea what is in here. I can't see! It's as though I've been blind folded…and I have no idea how I am going to find a weapon of any description in this place.

Whoever this person is…he knows us. He knows me anyway and that isn't a good feeling. He has one over on me already. I try to think who it could be. Who knows the team and why they would be picking me out of the lot – or was that just because I wasn't as injured as the rest of them. Another step and my hand is still against the wall…but my shoulder where the bullet entered in the left side is seizing up and I can hardly move that arm now. I clench my fist and blink in the darkness and look back behind me at the blessed light…and at my fallen friends…and colleagues laying in the blazing sun…and as I do the door moves and slams with a shuddering crack…

Quickly I move back to it but I can hear someone is outside and I can hear locks being moved across. Oh god no…please no….the UnSub is out there and I am stuck in here and now there is no light at all.

"Hey!" and I bang on the door.

But I get no answer….nothing….just a weird black silence.

I put my forehead against the door and stand for a while in my wet clothes and try to think. Think Spencer...think…you need to find the gun…the guy said there was a pistol in here and so slowly I turn and look out into the nothing in front of me. Somewhere out there is the thing which is going to save the team's life. I can do this…I have to do this. There are no options. Again I put my hand against the wall and I take a step around the edge of the room. The floor below my feet is hard…and the building is of some hard prefabricated material. Another step.

They are bleeding to death out there and I am creeping around the edge of the room squishing in my trainers and my hair dripping and only one arm I can use and I feel useless. They will all die and it will be because of me. Because I am scared of the dark.

…………..this darkness though….this is different. I take another step……..why is just walking so difficult? Why am I shaking like this. I am a trained FBI agent. I stop and take breaths again. Pull yourself together Reid…the team needs you. Hotch needs you. Prentiss….Emily she needs you too.

And the thought of all that blood and the way it was smelling in the hot sun makes my stomach heave and I am leaning forwards throwing up in the darkness on to my trainers which will now stink of river and sweat and vomit.

Once the horrible twisting and cramping has finished in my insides…there wasn't much to bring up…I had missed breakfast….and my thoughts are dragged back to look at the bedroom again…once I have stopped being sick…I step onwards and then kick my footware off…I can walk easier without that smell and sound reaching me a and reminding me with every step. Another step now and still I am moving with my one good hand along the wall of the room…and my other at my side. I stop….and I grab my left hand in my right and clenching my teeth through the pain I pull my hand up and slide it in the gap on my shirt between the buttons. It feels a big better for that. The weight of my arm isn't pulling on the wound and yes…that feels a bit better…I should bind it in some way. It has started to bleed again, but I am thinking I am lucky…and I think of the mess I have left behind out side.

Another step forward and my hand is reaching a corner. I stand and think about this. There shouldn't be a corner yet….the room is bigger than this from the outside…therefore it must be divided up inside and it's a good thought….maybe there is light in one of the other rooms….maybe that is where I will find the pistol.

I feel a bit more confident now and though my hand is still against the wall my step is a bit longer. I need to find the pistol…and I need to do it before…before it is too late. I turn and look at the crack of light where the door is and sigh. At least….at least it's not hot in here. Some kind of air conditioning is keeping the room cool.

A door. I can feel a door in the wall…and my blind fingers reach out for a handle. It's the kind you push down. I do what Hotch does and I place the finger tips of my right hand on the door. I think It's to make sure it's not hot…or there are no vibrations behind it. There doesn't seem to be anything strange about it and so I move my hand to the handle and gently push it down…

I am holding my breath and I don't really know why. I suck in my bottom lip and bite down on it as I push the door open.

It squeaks slightly.

But that is all I remember about the room and the door.

The blast takes me in the chest and I can feel my feet being lifted off the floor and I am flying backwards and a strange noise is being ripped from my throat…sort of like a scream and a howl of pain and shock.

As my back smacks to the floor and my eyes are squeezed closed defensively I feel something digging into my back…and I feel a dreadful pain in my arm and in my chest and I think maybe that the explosion has made my arm start to bleed again and I lay there moving my good hand up to where my arm hurts and I can feel a bit of metal stuck in there. Carefully still with my eyes shut but with tears of pain now I feel around my arm and realise that it's been pinned to my chest now.

I take a deep breath. I need to get up and get moving…I need to get out of here. I was stupid…how can someone be that stupid? They are all going to die because I didn't figure out that would happen…how damned stupid….

"You are meant to be a genius Spencer." I mutter to myself…

And then I hear shouting and gun fire. I have to get up and I have to save them.

"Stop it!" I shout…and it hurts so much…and I have a taste of blood in my mouth now. "I'm here still. Just stop it."

As I move carefully trying not to dislodge the thing in my arm and chest I realise I am laying in shards of glass which has been set into the concrete floor.

-o-o-o-

I told him to get out.

I told him to go and get help…but he came back again.

At first I was cross. He was our only chance, but I would have done the same thing.

I can just about see him as he walks past. His clothes are drenched and stuck to him and the blood is dripping down his arm again but he's not looking defeated by it. He is holding his head up. A few times he pauses and the sniper fires rounds into the dirt at his feet….and the first few times he jumps…but then he carries on. He has been given instructions on what to do…I need to take his place and tell him to just get the hell out of here but I can hardly move…and now I feel I need to stay with the rest of the team. I need to keep everyone alive and if the guy is watching Reid then is my chance to move here. The round to my leg wasn't too bad. It just caught the side of my calf. Again it is almost purposeful. Whoever this was picked Reid out and has kept me conscious. I suspect Reid is trying to figure out who is doing this and I hope that the drinks he had last night are not going to effect his thinking. He really didn't look right today. Something happened and I need to get to the bottom of it….but right now…I have the chance to help my men. I watch as he moves through the darkened doorway and I know how difficult that has to be for him. Quickly I am moving….I put my hand out and grab Derek.

"Morgan. Wake up…Stay with us."

I can see the slight ragged rise and fall of his chest but he doesn't move. That's ok….At least he is unlikely to burn in the sun and he wont be in pain. I have to get to the others….

"Dave…." I say as I drag myself slowly forwards…. Dave!" but if he answers I don't now…the noise from where Reid just entered has made me quickly turn. Someone has closed the door and is standing there looking at me.

He doesn't say anything…he turns back and pushes bolts across the door.

He's locked Reid in the dark…and my heart pounds for him. I know how much he is effected by the dark.

………………………oh god no…..I can hear his panicked hammers on the door and faintly his voice…but it is ignored by the guy with baseball bat as he puts his back to the door and starts to walk towards us.

"Having fun Hotchner?" He asks me. His eyes don't even wander to the others…he is fixed on me. "It's going to get so much better as the good Doctor fumbles around in the dark. Get up."

……then walks away from me and stands next to Prentiss with the bat swinging behind his head.

"I said get up before I smash her head in."

…………………..I am still trying to keep my hand on the wound in my side but I think it has stopped bleeding now. My head he thumping from the sun and the smack I got from the paintball pellet and from blood loss and the general situation. I am on my feet but everything is swaying…or I am and forcing my eyes to focus is almost impossible.

"Grab Morgan and drag him over here." The guy has a strange accent which I can't quite finger. I don't know if he is disguising his voice or if my head is just too confused to work it out. I take too small steps towards Derek and look down at him. I don't even know if he is still alive. He hasn't moved. Dragging him will cause more harm to his though and I am loath to do that.

"What do you want with us?" I ask him as I bend carefully and take Derek's still warm hands in mine.

"Nothing. I want nothing from you except for you to do as you are told. It's your little friend I am playing with. Hurry – we are running out of time here."

………………….I don't know what Spencer could have done to make this man do this to us, but carefully and trying not to make my side bleed again I pull Morgan out of the sun and into the shadows at the side of the building Emily had been running for.

………………….Then it happens………An explosion from the building Spencer is in…..I hear his scream….and then I hear cries of pain and I look at the guy with the bat who is holding a pistol in his hand and he is grinning.

I start to move towards where Spencer is but as he was manoeuvred by the bullets in the ground I am kept in place by the round which just entered Emily's other leg….She cries out and tries to crawl away…

"Don't move Hotchner. Don't spoil my game now."

…… "What do you want!?" And my fury and pain and worry are so great that I can see dark spots of panic appearing before my eyes….my team…my brilliant team…taken down…and why? I just need to know why?

And I lean forwards and bring up my cornflakes into the dust as I hear Spencer's voice crying out and I can do nothing to help him.

He should have followed orders.

He should have got away when he could.

-o-o-o-

When I wake up I'm held down by more bleeding plastic crap.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?"

And something hard hits me in the solar plex and I tell the owner of the baton to go have fun with it somewhere….and for that….everything goes dark again.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5 The Pit Falls

Chapter 5

The Pit Falls

* * *

I wake up in pain and wonder why. Then realise it's not mine. It's Spencer's.

I'm still restrained.

And having a look around it looks like a cross between a prison cell and a hospital of some sort.

"Hey" I shout….I have to get the hell out of here. I have to get out. I can't let him down….even is he is a cheating little fuck…I like him when he's dirty. Just wish he'd been dirty with someone else.

…………but for a while no one comes so I take the time to try and rip my way out of the crappy plastic crap they have used to hold me down.

"You can't keep me here! You have to charge me with something! What the fuck did I do to deserve this?" I am so sodding pissed off now. Really I am….

…………..fit to kill…………I feel the rage…….that red, heart pounding rage which comes along every now and then…sometimes for no reason….sometimes because I am so fucking pissed off I don't know what else to do.

Shit…arse and bollocks…I've got a nose bleed.

"Oy!! Hey!! I'm bleeding in here you worthless sonsofbitches! You going to let me choke on my own blood?" Nice as it is….dripping down the back of my throat. I swallow it and close my eyes and imagine ripping into Spencer and tasting that sweetness – but they don't have to know I'm enjoying it.

Crap…enjoying it a bit too much….

By the time the door opens I suspect I don't look too well. I'm spitting blood up the wall next to the bed I'm strapped to and my wrists and ankles are bleeding from where I am pulling at the restraints. My nose has done a good job today….black clots of shit have been sliding out of it and crawling their way down the sides of my face. I think I probably look a bit insane…and fuck am I angry…. I can still feel the pain Spencer is in…and it's getting worse.

They are just in time to experience Flanders Grand Projectile Vomit Display. It hits the wall too and mixes with the blood…and keeps them at bay for a while.

I can hear them muttering….but I can hear Spencer screaming and I don't like it. Someone is hurting….some bastard is hurting my Spence and I'm not there to watch – I mean join in….no no…help….

Turning my head to look at the new arrivals I can see them staring at me.

"What?" I ask….maybe a bit snappy. Maybe the polite Floyd isn't around right now.

"I am a state appointed lawyer. I'm just going to sit here and make sure they don't ask the wrong questions….but I really do need to know your name."

"Screw you! Fuck off….get me out of here or fuck the hell out of here."

That's not what I should have said really, but it doesn't stop him from dragging in a chair and sitting a bit away from me. "Name?" he asks….he has a pad in front of him…and I think about this….

"Franks."

"Mr Franks do you know why you are here?"

"No…good damned question that…why the fuck am I here?" and I'm pulling at the restraints and HAHA! One of them pops off…but I just do a small inward smirk….I don't let them know…not yet.

"Do you remember what happened with the two police officers?"

"The ones who stopped me? The ones who have prevented me from getting to Spencer? The ones I ripped apart with my bare hands? Nope don't remember a thing….but if something happened they sodding well deserved it. I'm gonna be sick."

I can feel the pain again…the fear….

I have the fear.

-o-o-o-

I cant move.

I can fell the glass embedded into my back and the back of my legs. I can feel how it ripped across my skin as I fell and slid across it.

I don't know what to do. I need to try to sit up, but then what? I can't tell how far this glass goes. If I crawl away I will get cut…If I stand…well I took my trainers off...but I don't think they would protect me too much. For now I think about my breathing and about this thing stuck in my arm and chest. Should I try to pull whatever it is out? I don't think I should. I need to leave it and try to think…

……………….I can hear my blood pounding in my head and I feel vulnerable just laying here. My back is wet…and I think I have glass in the back of my head too.

Slowly I reach out with my hand until I find a place I can rest it and not impale it with glass…and I use the leverage to push myself up to sit.

…………Maybe that was me shouting out again. I'm not sure….I think it was. I could hear it rip and tear my clothing and my skin. I can feel blood running down my back and soaking into the back of my already wet pants. I move my hand and wipe the sweat away from my eyes.

"It's ok…It's ok…just stand. Stand and walk carefully." I whisper it to myself. There is no one here to hear me. He is outside with the others…doing god only knows what….and when I find that pistol…

………..then what? Am I locked in? Are there other way's out of here? I pull my feet up close to my body and try to find a bit floor I can stand on. It's not easy…but I do it…I can put both of my feet down and one hand…and so slowly I push up to my feet….

And I wish I hadn't. I wish I was still laying on the floor.

I wish I was outside with the others.

I wish I had got so drunk last night that I was laying in a side street covered in my own vomit….but no….I am here….and I bend forward and bring up food from goodness knows where…and I can still smell the alcohol….or is that just my imagination….I'm still under the influence.

………….That is stupid Spencer…you are just feeling sick because someone is killing your friends and you are standing in the middle of the room too scared to moved because it's dark and you are covered in blood.

And I am sick again…well I try to be….There is nothing left to bring up now, but my stomach is twisting and cramping and I have tears on my face and yes…I am just standing here…doing nothing because I have no idea what the UnSub wants me to do.

I sort of slide my foot forwards in an attempt to find somewhere new to stand. With no light and only one arm I can use and the pain everywhere I don't know if I will be able to keep my balance. My foot has found somewhere…so I move the other and try to move a step forwards.

………I am so light headed………….

Maybe it's better I cant see. At least this way I can't see the room spinning and tipping and leaning to the side…because I am sure that is what it is doing.

I was cold earlier, but now I am much too hot, and sweat is joining the river water and blood running down the back of my head. I put a gentle hand on the back of my head and can feel things stuck firmly in my skull…and so I move it away again and close my eyes as I let my feet take my weight in my new position.

………..How long is this taking me?! What is going on with Hotch and Prentiss and Rossi?….and my mind drifts again to last night and Ardal and Floyd and then this morning and seeing them together hurt so much…and now this? Why?

I am still trying to work out who this could be. I really don't know. I can't think straight…I want to go through each case which involved Hotch and I particularly but I can't get an answer to anything…

"Ahhhh!" I wasn't thinking….I've stepped on something and now I am having to pull my foot off it again and it makes a squelching sucking sound as it is pulled from my foot. I bend forward and wonder what would happen if I allowed my self to passout right now. I place my fingers on the floor between the shards and doing this pulls my arm which is pinned to my chest and again a sound of pain escapes from my mouth.

I can't just stay here but I know that moving is going to be almost too much. I get my balance and brush my fingers across the top of my foot to see if what I thought had happened did….and I can feel blood oozing out of the hole on the top of my foot. It's ok….it has to be. The rest of me is in so much pain that this won't even notice.

………………but the thing that drips onto the back of my hand is a tear.

I have to move. I have to get out…and the way I have been standing with my head forwards means that the blood from the back of my head is trickling around my neck to the front and again everything sways and moves and I think I am going to fall…..but it passes.

This time I stay down. I stay in a crouch and carefully with my fingertips I find a place safe for my uninjured foot to stand and as I move I reach out for the next place…but this is taking too long…far too long…

And I know …I might have a high IQ but for some reason today….and probably yesterday….my genius is over riding my common sense. I should have got out when I could. I should have followed orders…but then what? He would have killed them anyway? Followed me and taken pot shots at me as I tried to swim across the river…Face it….no way you could have made it across…not with this bullet hole – but at least I would have died quicker and thinking I was doing something to help.

-o-o-o-

One by one he makes me take the team into the building Emily had been running for. I am bleeding from my side again but there is not much I can do about that right now. My leg hurts and is slowing me down, but it's not damage I cant deal with. Emily is awake. She has two wounds both to her upper leg. One on each. She can't walk, but she can cry out in pain as I am – with the cold of a gun pressed to the small of my back I do as I am asked. Getting them all out of the sun will at least give Spencer more time.

If he is still alive.

And it is then that I hear another cry of pain from him and my stomach twists because I don't know what's going on.

"What are you doing to him? What do you want from us?"

I get jabbed harder in the back for that but I don't get an answer.

"Hotch." Emily's voice is low and husky. "Hotch? What's going on?"

………………I sit on the floor next to her and glance over at the guy with the gun. He has moved back away from me and has the gun pressed to the side of Morgan's head. "I just want to tend to her wounds." I tell him….and he does a quick nod.

I rip off bits from the bottom of my shirt and make emergency bandages for her legs. I think she will be alright…as long as she takes no more damage. "Just stay calm and try to do what he asks."

I can see she is looking around and her eyes fix on Rossi and Derek. "Where is Reid?"

……………….and so I shake my head at her. "Don't worry about him." And I see her eye's go huge. "Emily." I put a hand on her shoulder. "He has him somewhere else. He's not with us. Stay calm…I'll get us out of this."

"Somewhere else? Why?"

And I don't know why! I don't know why this is happening. "He hasn't explained." And I glance over at the UnSub who is watching and digging the barrel of the gun into the back of Morgan's neck.

"Stop the idle chatter and get over here." He snarls at me and so I slowly stand up and walk over to him. He hands me plasticuff and gives me instructions to cuff my team members hands behind their backs. This gives me a better chance to check up on Morgan and Rossi.

Neither of them look good. Morgan still feels warm which a big plus and the bleeding to his upper chest has stopped. He also seems to have a nasty wound on the side of this head which is – I think what is keeping him under for now. He must have hit his head when he fell. I am as gentle as possible with him…Rolling him onto his stomach and making sure I don't start the bleeding again, but apart from that there isn't a lot I can do to help him.

Rossi's breaths are ragged and sound painful. I touch the side of his face and he opens his eyes. "Dave, I need to lay your on your front. I think you might find it easier to………………"

I don't get to finish. Something hard hits me in the side of the face. A boot I think…I think it's a boot. It sends me back onto the dirty floor with a grunt. I feel my teeth dig into the skin on my inner cheek and as he comes in again I try to reach out and grab at him…

He stands back quickly and looks down at me. "You Agent Hotchner are forgetting something. Your little kid agent is fighting for his life right now because he thinks he's your only chance…don't make him go through the hell I am putting him through just to find you messed up and got the others killed. Think how he will feel knowing he took too long….poor boy…It would screw him up for life don't you think?"

I roll over and push up so I am sitting but I avoid looking at him. "I am sure he will cope. He is trained for this sort of thing. You picked on the wrong…………" and again I am laying back in the dirt.

"You Hotchner need to keep your mouth shut."

-o-o-o-

He drags and pulls and pushes them all over to the side of the room and attaches them to a pipe going around the edge…I am worried that he hasn't done this to me yet.

I am watching Hotch who is still quite with it…the other two are totally out…I've heard the howls and shouts from outside and can only assume it's Reid. I have no idea what this creep is putting him through though I heard the hammering on the door and the explosion…good god…he is our only chance? We are doomed.

My feelings of dread are over shadowed now though as this stinking murdering whatever he is comes over and starts touching me. I want to fight him off but I can't move properly. As he starts to pull at the waistband of my combat pants I scream abuse at him and try to bite him. A punch to the side of my head puts stars in my vision and I just lay not able to do anything as he turns me over and restrains my hands behind my back.

-o-o-o-

I can feel ground with nothing on it….no glass and with a huge sigh of relief I step onto the cool concrete floor. I close my eyes and try to get my head back in some kind of order. I can see a dim glow of embers from where the explosion happened…and I can see the outline of the door still…and that is all so I attempt to get my bearings.

Slowly I turn on the stop but it is so painful that tears are falling again…and I am so cross….I don't want to cry! I don't want to give him that satisfaction. I carefully – trying to avoid putting pressure on the hole in my foot walk forwards. This must be where I need to go…so I walk forwards slowly…for now…

Then…………Then I hear the screams….the screams of Emily…and I move faster….I have to help her….I have to do something….

………..and I have no idea what I can do. Get out of here…find something…I am convinced there is no pistol here…It is all just a nasty game and by the sounds of it he is winning….

It catches me around my ankles…and suddenly my top half is moving forwards and my legs are still…..

I put a hand out to stop my fall…but there is nothing there…

And I am falling….fallling until I reach the bottom of a mud and slime filled hole in the ground………..and the spike has made it's way further into my chest and I scream in pain as my other arm makes a very nasty sound as my wrist bends back the wrong way….and I lay in a slime filled pit with the fresh taste of blood in my mouth and Emily's screams echoing around in my brain.

…………or are they my screams…….? I don't know.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6 Miranda

Chapter 6

Miranda

* * *

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you."

"Fuck you."

"Do you understand?"

"Fuck you."

I don't believe it…

"I need to know that you understand what I have just said to you."

"I need you to sod off. None of us is getting what we want today. I need a smoke…I need my stuff…where the fuck is my bloody stuff?"

I have managed to pull another one off…both of my hands are free now…damn will they be shocked when they come near me…..I'll tear their bleeding faces off.

"FRANKS!"

someone is shouting at me…

……… "I'm not deaf." And I spit more bloodied vomit out of my mouth and it dribbles down my chin and onto my neck.

"You need to listen."

"I'm listening." I turn my face to look at the cop standing there.

"You have the right to remain silent."

"Then stop fucking talking to me and asking if I understand….I invoke that right….now piss off."

"Anything you say…………."

"Screw you."

They withdraw for discussion and I lay and I wriggle my ankles cos now my arms are free….I will get these bastards.

"Mr Franks." It's the lawyer bloke….so I turn to look at him. "I really need you to understand that you are in trouble. I need to know that you understand what you did."

And I frown at him….What the hell is he on about? "Yes – yes I understand…I was riding without a helm…I get it…now let me go."

And now he is frowning at me. "That is why the officers pulled you over…but that isn't why you are here and I need to ask you…as it is just us…the cops are outside. Just between us Mr Franks…what happened after they pulled you over about not having our helm on? Can you tell me?"

"What happened?"

"At some point one of them shot you…do you remember that happening?"

I really am having one of those days where nothing is going right. "I don't think I remember that."

"They both had broken necks…do you know how that happened?"

And my day gets worse as I push some hair off my face. I watch the lawyer smile at me and stand. He moves to the door and presses a buzzer….As they open the door he looks back at me and says to the guards on the door.

"His hands are free…get me the hell out of here."

"SHIT!" and I lay there and look at my hands and I swear some words I don't want to admit to saying now…. "Crap on a sodding stick!" So I sit up and pull at the things on my ankles but people are running into the room now and they are out of my reach and they have guns trained on me and they are telling me to lay the hell back down or I will have my brains over the rear wall….

And they are on me faster than flies on a corpse….holding me down while I scream abuse at them and bite…and rip and tear and they stick needles in me and wrap something around my face and stuff something in my mouth and people are shouting and being pulled out of my reach as things go foggy and weird and more needles are stuck in me and they undo the ties on my feet and they are dragging me off the bed and onto a gurney….

And I need to tell them… "Help….help Spencer….." I don't know if they are listening or if I am talking though…. "You need

to help him… Dr Reid… Agent Reid…." But then I realise that it is all in my head….because I have this thing in my mouth and they are strapping me down again…around my neck…and across my chest and my legs and this time they are not taking risks.

Bastards.

-o-o-o-

I lay on my side and feel the mess seeping into my clothes and I don't know if I can move…all I can hear is screaming and more screaming…and really now I don't know where it is coming from.

Curling up and dying here is what my heart wants to do…but I need to move. I have to get out. Not that the UnSub wants me to get out. This is the point. Maybe…

………….I try to move the fingers on my right hand and they do but not easily and it is agony and so slowly I move them to where the spike has been driven further into my chest. There is blood…much too much blood and it seems to be bubbling up from inside of me and into my mouth. I need to sit up…I need to get out of this mud and whatever it is. It smells like sewage…and I think that is probably what it is.

Managing to get so I am sitting back and I know there is this stuff in my wounds now. I need to get out and sort them out before I get some nasty blood poisoning from them. I don't even know how deep…how far down I am and so I try to stand but it is certainly deeper than my height…and there is no chance I will be able to pull my way out of here. No chance. I move around the pit I have fallen into and it's not very large…I can would guess it is about as square as I am tall…about six foot square and as I move around my foot touches on something.

I bend down and feel around for what it is. My fingers are going numb with the pain of what I suspect is a broken wrist but I can still feel the bag under the muck. A sealed waterproof bag….and so I pull it out of the mess and I slide my back down the wall to sit…only now remembering that I have bits of glass stuck in there…and little sounds of pain escape my mouth…but I am too tired and defeated now to shout out for help.

Fumbling in the dark I manage to find the top of the bag…it has a zip lock thing which my fingers don't want to manipulate and so I pull it open with my teeth. There are things in the bag…I can tell by the weight on my legs as I sit here in the dark.

I slide my hand cautiously into the bag and the first thing I find is a flashlight.

"My god….light." I pull it out quickly and flick it on….the light is dim…the batteries are low…I will have to conserve the power. I use it though to have a quick scan around the pit. About ten foot deep. There is no way even if I was not sporting a pinned and shot arm and a broken wrist and a spiked foot and the heavens only know what else, that I could get out of here….and now I shine it back into the bag….another sealed bag inside….and I can feel what this is before I pull the bag open.

"A pistol….no…a revolver." I mutter to myself – taking it from the bag. Not that I would be able to see well enough to aim it…and I don't know if my trigger finger would let me fire it. I quickly check it for ammo.

"One? Only one?"

and right at the bottom a note.

'_Dear Dr. Reid. If you have this note then you know you are not able to help your friends. You have only one option left. Think about it Dr Reid. That one action will result in my satisfaction and I will walk away a happy man and your friends will be safe..'_

So I look at the pistol again and I turn off the flashlight and lean back in the filth with the revolver resting on my lap.

I think I know what he wants me to do….well it's glaringly obvious but I can't. I can't do that. I need to know why and I have to know who…Then maybe…maybe I will consider it. Not until…but I can still hear screams…and it's Emily. He is doing something to Emily…

………..Why has no one come to help? Where are the men from the registration desk….where are the guys who have our phones? Where in gods name is everyone?

Sitting here I pull my knees up close to my chest and I have that familiar urge to wrap my arms around my legs but I can't…one is still attached to me and the other I need it…I need it to rest on the revolver. I need to know that my personal way out of hell is here…but how do I know the other's will be safe.

If he came to talk to me. If I could have a conversation with this person I might be able to work out who he is and what he really wants…if he wanted me dead…if that was what this is all about then a bullet between my eyes would have been quicker….but it's more than that. He wanted me to suffer…he wanted the team to suffer…he wanted them to see that I was their only hope….or has he even told them…Do they know I am here?

……………Hotch must know….he must do…he was awake when I came in here. He was watching me. Watching me disobey his direct orders and now this….this is my doing.

I think I can guess what he is doing to Emily –

………….Emily…………you might not realise this….you might not want me as someone to chat it over with….but believe me…I know. I know what it feels like.

At least her screams have stopped and I know something now too…he won't kill them. He will keep them alive if he is going to keep to his offer…

I run my fingers over the weapon. I think he will come to talk to me. That is what they do….he is in control….he has had this planned for a while. He knew about this weekend…He knows us…and I probably know him…from somewhere at some point. Someone I have smiled at and said 'hello' to thinking it was the correct thing to do….but no…I gave off the wrong messages to someone at some point and I can't think when or who.

……….My mind races through the people at work…all of them…and I come up with a nasty big blank…or if I go the other way….too many names to even start to filter them out.

-o-o-o-

She is curled up on the floor with her back to us. I can see the pink of her back and the scratches and marks coming up on her skin. I lay and watched the bastard rape my agent and could do nothing to stop it.

I want to be sick. I want to go and help her…but he has secured me tightly to the side of the room. I need to call out to her but he is looking at me…and smiling and pulling his pants back up and I will kill him. I will do. I have do doubt in my mind that I am feeling a rage which I won't be able to just get rid of over pizza and beer.

"I won't be long. Need to check up on the Doctor…see if he's managed to kill himself yet." And he laughs at that. He thinks this is so funny, but I've not heard anything but Prentiss's screams in my head for so long I almost forgot to listen out for Reid's.

Someone must have heard her. Someone out there…the other paintballers…the people organizing this cock up…someone would have heard it…and I think that is why she scream so loudly. It was a way to call for help, but the bastard enjoyed it.

Now he has gone…I pull at my restraints and call over to Prentiss…but I'm not good at emotional stuff. This isn't part of the job I feel comfortable with. "Prentiss." She doesn't move…I think I can hear small sobbing sounds. "Emily…" This time I watch her pull her combat pants back up and she rolls over to look at me.

"I'm fine." She mumbles….She knows I won't ask the question. I watch my battered agent push herself up to sit and she glances around the room. "Where is he?" She hisses over at me.

I look out of the door. "He has gone to check up on Reid." And flashes of images of what the man could have done to him make me feel queasy.

"Hotch….on the raft." And she is pushing up to her feet. "There is the knife we used to cut the ropes." And now she is walking and I don't know why she isn't curled up still and a crying sobbing mess and I think of her compartmentalising…and for once I am glad for it.

"Get it and get back here."

I want to help her, but right now there is nothing I can do but stay here and wait and hope above all else that she will get there and back before our tormenter gets back. She runs…I can hear her running…and it's not too far to the river from here. I put my head back against the wall of the room and close my eyes. "Hurry Emily." I mutter to myself and I count silently in my head, but I don't get far…She is quick and is running back through the doors and throwing herself back down where she was.

"I have it." She mouths the words at me and I can see the concentration on her face as she starts to cut her way through the bindings on her wrists. I wanted her to hurry…she has to hurry and get the knife over to me… I have to get out there and get help for Spencer.

All I have heard is a horrible silence since the guy left and it worries me. I don't like it. I have a vile sickening feeling that I am too late for Spencer, but I don't want to hear those screams like I did earlier either…I just want him here with us…so I can tell him I am sorry for not being there yesterday.

I can hear Dave moaning and at last Morgan is moving slightly. This helps a bit. We are all alive still.

…………..I hope we are all alive still…….

And I look out to where he went and to where Spencer is….alone somewhere and in pain.

"Hotch." A hand touches me. I focus my mind again and Emily is at my side. He hands are free. Quickly she cuts through my restraints and I am climbing to my feet before she can move.

"Stay with them. Stay here. I don't want you following. Cut them free and stay here."

Emily looks up at me and nods.

Laying on the floor near to the door is the baseball bat he had earlier. I bend down to get it and my head spins and I think I'm going to be sick again. I blink the sweat away from my eyes and push my hair off my forehead.

"Be careful." Emily says as I step out of the door.

………………………I don't know about being careful…….but I will save Spencer……or I will die trying.

-o-o-o-

I don't know where I am…..

They still have something strapped around my face….a muzzle…I lick my lips…they've taken the thing out of my mouth though…so I can talk, but I can't move. I'm not sure why I can't move….I'm not quite sure about much at all to be very honest with you.

"Hello Mr Franks." A voice says to me from down a long dark tunnel and so I try to look down the tunnel and I see a man whose eyes are too big and his face is tiny tiny tiny small…like a little insect and if he comes close enough...

..."I will pull your fucking wings off!" I shout at him.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7 Living on the Ceiling

Chapter 7

Living on the Ceiling.

* * *

The light.

Suddenly there is light….not down here in my pit but to the side….out there….there is light…and someone is coming. I can hear foot steps.

My swollen hand clutches at the revolver and I push back harder against the side of the pit. I look up when I hear loose earth and stones fall down the side of my new home. I can't see who it is…All I can see is the black silhouette of someone standing there with a rifle hanging from his hand.

"Dr Reid. Still with us I see. That's good. Very good. You got my message?"

But I don't answer him…I am still trying to work out if I know the voice and I am sure I don't. I have no idea who it is.

"Who are you?" My voice is husky from lack of moisture but it I don't get an answer.

………I watch him slowly walk around the pit. He doesn't seem bothered that I have the gun here. He's not scared of me, but my one bullet isn't really a match for what he has in his rifle.

"Did you hear her screams Dr Reid? Did you hear Emily squeal like the pig she is? I raped her. I took her Spencer and she was sweet." I didn't want to listen…I didn't want to hear this from him, but he told me every detail of what he did to Emily and I have tears on my face again which I don't wipe away because it would mean taking my hand off the revolver and I can't do that…I don't want to do that.

"Did you enjoy it Dr Reid?"

But I don't react to him…I just watch as he paces around the edge of my pit.

"Did you want to join in?"

And I want to point this at him and put a bullet in him but I don't…I just watch him.

"Of course not. You wouldn't want a bit of Emily would you? Who is it you have your eye on Reid. Not Rossi…he's to old for you…Hotchner? Surely not your boss….What about Morgan…that lovely dark skin against your white. Now that would look good."

……………….flashes of memory of Derek pushing into me…feeling his breath on my neck and his hands holding one of my arms tightly and holding me with the other……………..

I blink the memory away….. "Stop it." I mutter it under my breath because I don't want him to hear me….but I still have to say it

"Or maybe just some tart off the side of the street. I know your sort Dr Reid. Dirty scum."

I hold the gun a bit tighter and it hurts…it hurts my fingers and I know I could never aim this at him….I am shaking. That's not what this is for.

He moves again and then stops when he gets to the point where he can look directly down at me….on the opposite side of the pit.

"So you little faggot scum…look at me….look at me and tell me that you've never desired Derek Morgan."

And I can…I can do that but the words won't come out because all I am getting now is memories of what he did only the day before. The way he held me…the way he brushed his tongue over my ear the way his fingers probed and explored me…and I can't talk. If I say something then my voice will betray how I am really feeling. It will scream out at him that I am keeping something from him, so I hold tighter to the gun and look up at him…and I am sure he is smiling at me. He would see my wet face…he will know….he knows….oh god he knows.

"Good boy….oh dear you don't look too happy. You really don't – but Spencer…you know what…I am going to go back and have some more of Emily…I am going to have her the way you dream Morgan will have you."

……………"NO!" and my voice leapt out without my telling it to. It just did it and I want to take it back again and keep it with me, but I can't….he knows. "No….please…what do you want me to do?"

It looks like he is crouching on the edge now….almost as though he is going to leap down….but he speaks to me.

"Put it in your mouth kid….and blow your brains out. You know that." And I see him nod. "And I will just walk away from here…and your friends will be safe."

I feel that I am shaking my head. "I don't believe you. You are a liar…"

"Don't! Don't call me that boy….just do what you are told."

"How do I know what you say is true….how do I know?" I need to put doubt in his plan….make it less straight forward for him. I need to mess it up. "You haven't shown me that I can trust you. Why would I believe you after this?"

I watch him stand up again and look around. Then he looks back down at me. "I see you need gentle persuasion."

"Let someone go. Let one of them go…then I will know you are telling me the truth."

And he cackles at me. "Dr Reid. I am the one standing up here….you are the one sitting in six inches of shit and mud. Which of us looks like the stupid one? Sure as hell don't feel like me. You sit there and you ponder on that revolver….and I will get you something to help you think a bit clearer.

I see him move back away from the edge and I call out to him. "Come back!" But he doesn't …and my fingers play over the gun resting on my lap and I think about what it will feel like to put the barrel in my mouth.

I wonder if I will feel anything. I don't think I will….I don't think it will hurt….and I cough…and I get a fresh taste of blood in my mouth and I wonder if I am going to die down her anyway. Maybe the gun is the quick way out.

The cowards way out they say.

I feel too hot. I feel much too hot and I am shaking more than I was earlier. I tip my head back and rest it on the wall of the pit behind me and wonder where the UnSub has gone.

I soon get a fairly good guess.

-o-o-o-

The room is small….I can see the room is small and I can move my fingers and toes.

I'm on the floor.

That's all that seems to be here….a floor…I'm sure I was on a bed earlier…but I'm on a floor now and this thing…I put my hands to my face…Ah...I can move my hands now and my legs…I have movement….I can feel that the thing on my head has been welded on somehow.

"Hey!" I roll over and get to my knees and feel a twinge of pain there for a second or two….I'm in a fucking all in one black boiler suit thing…and I want to get to my feet but my legs and brain don't seem to be connected

No one comes to my call…even though I keep it up until my nose starts to bleed….and then I spray the room nicely with blood and wonder why I am here again and remember Spencer and I vomit on the ceiling….I think….maybe it was the floor….

I don't know…I think I am crawling all over walls….I need to get off the floor and some drug in me is letting me crawl up the walls…

…………….sucker pads on my hands……………

interesting….

I will hang up here on the ceiling and wait for some bastard to come in here with my tapioca and I will fucking have them like a cat gets a bird…I will tear his feathers off and rip off his wings and then see the fuck knob get me…

"Come on you wankers….come and get me you bastards"

………………………..well that was interesting…I am laying on the floor again and I think I'm laying in vomit and piss…it smells like I am…and it feels like someone kicked the shit out of me….but I cant remember coming off the ceiling….so maybe I'm still there….but I'm finding it hard to think…….

"What's with the sodding tapioca?" and I roll around and scream at the walls until it goes dark and I slide away for a while.

-o-o-o-

I hadn't got very far when it happened.

A few steps into the room…the room I had last seen Reid walk into and I felt it on the back of my neck…something cold.

"Just stand still Hotchner and drop the stick." And it jabbed a bit harder. "I have something I want to show you. Good timing really." And he prods me harder. "Don't make me blow your brains out."

I lift my hands up and face then palms out and take a deep breath as the bat clatters to the floor. "Where is Reid?" I ask him, but in reply I hear a gun cocking and I'm pushed further forwards.

"Don't talk. Just walk forwards."

I walk into the room which is now brightly lit up buy spot lights at the side of the room….there is no over head lighting.

"Stop." I can see that I have reached the edge of something.

"If you can tell me what you want from us….we can talk about it."

"No need. I have what I want. Look down there." And he jabs me harder with the gun as I look down into the dark pit. What I see makes me pull in a sharp intake of breath

Reid is huddled against the wall down in the darkness…the smell is stomach churning. I can see he is sitting with his legs bent and tight up close and his head is down…but it is too dark…I can't even tell is he is alive from here.

"Reid." I say it calmly. I don't want him to know that this person is here too. "Spencer." And slowly he looks up at me and I see his eyes blink in the darkness, but he doesn't say anything…he just puts his head back down again.

A snarl from behind me and a jab with the gun – tells me to get onto my knees. I do so. It takes away the effort of having to balance and not be sick and stop the room spinning. I want to climb down there with him and make right whatever happened….what made him scream….but this person with me is shouting now and he is shouting over me and down at Reid.

"Show is what you have." He shouts down….but I don't see him move. "Show him Dr Reid or I will start hurting him." I see Spencer move slowly and pull something off his lap. I can see the faint glinting of metal and as he holds it up somewhat awkwardly I see it is a gun…a pistol…a revolver. "Well done you little pervert." And now he starts to talk to me. "You know he fantasises about Derek Morgan…about what he would do to him…what they would do to each other….doesn't that make you feel sick?" Now he talks to Reid again. "Show him what to do with the gun Spencer. Show him."

And I see Reid look up again but only this time he doesn't look at me. He avoids my face and looks to the side but he shakes his head slowly. I can see how sweaty his face is…I can see how his body is shaking…please don't let this person have damaged him and destroyed him in the small time he was away.

"Show him!"

and I see Reid jump at the sudden loud sound and I sense more than see the UnSub move around so he is at my side now, but the gun is pressed hard into the side of my neck.

"Show him or I will do to Hotchner what I did to Emily Prentiss."

And I see the shaking hand and I see his eyes are now closed has he lifts the revolver up and presses it under his chin.

"NO!"

And I feel the butt of the gun across the back of my head. I put my hands out and only just manage to stop myself from falling. As I turn onto my side to get my balance I feel the gun smack the side of my head.

"Do it! Show him."

And I am pushed to the edge of the pit.

"I order you to ignore him Reid." I hiss down at him….but again he ignores my orders as I watch and he slides the barrel of the gun into his mouth.

* * *

**A/N: SORRY IF THIS IS STRANGE AND SHORT BUT I HAD VERY LITTLE SLEEP AND NEEDED TO DO IT AND POST….MORE TOMORROW! Pb XOX**


	8. Chapter 8 Clean

Chapter 8

Clean

* * *

It's surprising really.

I didn't expect it to be this easy, but I'm not going to do what he wants. I don't even have the one and only round in the correct place in the chamber. I don't think.

Carefully I pull it from my mouth again and lay it back on my lap. I think about checking…did I just have the chance to end this? I don't really want to know. I can see Hotch looking down at me and I am trying to work out what that expression is on his face and I don't know.

Things have become very confusing. I carefully stand, but I have to keep leaning on the side of the pit or I would fall down again. I slide the pistol into my pants pocket and then look up at Hotch. The expression has changed but I'm still having a problem discerning what it is. Does he want something?

I walk slowly across the pit until I am under where he is…I want to reach my hand up to him. I want to touch him to make sure he is real, but I can't and so I just stand and look up at him.

"Hotch – I'm sorry."

I want him to know I tried. I need him to know that I am sorry. Whatever it was I did to make this guy so mad with me. I want him to know I didn't mean it. I would take it back.

"Reid." And he drops an arm down the side of the pit and I can see his hand and I want to reach out and touch it, but, but, it might not be there. It might be a dream…and it might be something else and so I just stand and look at it….pale against the dark wall of the pit and then I back off.

"I'm so sorry. Tell Emily. Let her know I am sorry."

And as I reach the other side of the pit again my stomach goes into cramps and I want to lean forward and be sick, but I just slide the weapon out of my pocket again and then sit back down with a splash into the foul slime I am going to be in for the rest of my life. I make sure I have my back to Hotch now. I don't want him to see the guilt on my face. I don't want to see the disappointment on his because I let them down. Let them all down because I couldn't – or didn't….maybe didn't want to fight Derek off yesterday.

I can hear Hotch saying something but I've turned off now and I am going back to the night before and I am feeling Derek against me and feeling his tongue running over my ear and his fingers digging into my arm….I remember how he wrapped his arms around me to keep me still – to keep me in position – to make it comfortable for himself. The way he dug his fingers into my chest until I thought he was going to draw blood.

And I wonder what I should have done to stop it….but then I remember how I started to push back…I remember how I tipped my head back and let him have free access to my neck…the way I tipped it slightly to the side so he cold dig in his teeth. I remember the small moans coming from Morgan and the slightly louder ones coming from me.

I enjoyed it.

I didn't come home with a black eye and skinned knuckles for Floyd because Morgan raped me and I let him…and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it a lot and the proof was in the way I responded to him.

Which is why I didn't go straight home. Which is why I went to the bar and drank too much…which is why this guy is right. My fingers stroke the weapon again and I wonder if there is a bullet in the correct place and if I should just get it all over with.

This is what he wants. This is how he plans on breaking me and I wont let it work…I look up at Hotch again just as he is suddenly dragged out of view.

I can't see what is going on. I can't see what is happening but I can hear the sounds of something smacking into someone and I can hear Hotch's moans and small noises…but I don't know what the UnSub is doing to him.

"Stop – stop it!" I shout…and I push up to my feet again and my head is spinning and my body is shaking so much I am nearly on my face in the filth again…I can feel sweat running off my brow and I blink it out of my eyes. This time I check the gun. This time I make sure the round is in the right place.

I will kill him. I will – next time he shows his head I will put a round…the round…the only one I have…I will put it between his eyes.

I force my hand to hold it…and I remove the safety and I put my finger next to the trigger…. "Stop it!" I shout out to him and I am ready….when he comes back I will have him…There is no way I can remain here with this and do nothing. I lean against the wall and I can feel the slime running down the back of my legs and I can feel where the glass ripped the flesh on my back…and I am so ready that when he reappears the gun is up and I can see him in my sights. 'Front sight…trigger press …follow through.' I would never forget those words….but my gun doesn't fire. It remains in my hand as I slowly lower it and look again up at Hotch.

Because of the way the room is lit I can see his face clearly. He has blood dripping from his nose and one of his eyes looks like it is going to swell and bruise. He has been hit in the mouth and now I see the look on his face as something else is happening…but I can't see what it is…I can just see the look of…

…………………horror?

Maybe shame? I'm not sure………

"Hotch." I whisper. I can't help him….and I grip the gun tighter as I see he is trying to struggle against someone behind him…. Please no….please don't have him look at me while he is attacked like that….

"Why are you doing this!" I want shout it but it comes out more of a moan. "Leave him alone…if it's me you want…leave him. I'll do what you want…just tell me what I did to you. Tell me what I did to make you want this."

My voice gets quieter as I see the look on Hotch's face and I close my eyes and want to block it out. I want to have the strength in me to do what he asked me to do.

"Just tell me…What did I do?"

And suddenly Hotch is gone again and there he is…he is standing there with the gun pointing down at me and I stare back at him.

"You really have no idea do you?" He looks offended.

I shake my head and clutch at the gun in my hand…I have one chance…One…if miss I will be as good as killing everyone….but I do only have one chance….so slowly….very slowly I lift it and point the gun at him.

"I really don't know." I say quietly. His big gun versus this thing shaking in my hand….I can't keep the sight on him let alone between his eyes.

"You don't scare me with that boy." And he takes the safety off the automatic weapon in his hands. "Because you killed me a long time ago."

…………does he see the look of surprise or puzzlement cross my face? "I don't' understand. Do I know you?" I keep my voice as calm as I can.

"That is the trouble with your sort. The scum of the earth. You dirty nasty spiteful bastard!" and he is shouting at me…."You take what you want and destroy it….so I am returning the favour. How does it feel? I see you are shaking and sweating nicely."

I want to wipe the sweat off my face but it would mean moving the gun and I'm not prepared to do that. "Tell me what I did….I'll fix it…I will sort it. You don't need to do this." I still try to stay calm but the man is insane and there is no reasoning with people whose minds have gone this far.

"Let me put an image in your head Dr Reid. Saturday night at the club….you and your friend. I thought he would be here too by now…It's a shame but I'll get him another time. You and that freak friend of yours….in the back room."

…………I want him to stop. I want him to shut up but all I can do is stand and shake and lick my lips as he carries on. "You or he…it doesn't matter now…you decide that you want to fuck with someone…and you pick on me. You stuck your dirty member in me Dr Reid and you fucked me." He is watching me carefully. "And you diseased me with your dirty blood."

I can feel I am shaking my head and the gun in his hand is shaking…I think it is anger…

"Do you remember now?"

…………………"I'm clean." It is a whisper.

"What?" And I look up at him and he weapon is pointing at my face.

"I'm clean." I repeat. "You've got the wrong person….I'm not positive." And I an suddenly so scared I don't now what to do because I don't know if I am because Floyd wont let me be tested…he says we are ok…and I don't know why I believe him! "It wasn't me!" I shout at him…

And his answer is a snarl. "But you are the only one I've ever been with Dr Reid….so explain that to me."

And I can't so I just shake my head and look at him and my world which had started to fall apart was crumbling further now.

"Explain it!" And again I am shaking my head and remembering what he has done to Emily and Hotch and I think I am going to pass out. Even if I haven't done this…what is happening is my fault because that is his belief. "And you don't even remember me….well you wouldn't…you only saw my back!"

"It wasn't me." I try again to stay calm but this man might have infected my friends and for that reason only I need to kill him.

…………….or if I can't…then kill myself….because this is something I can't let happen.

"It was you Dr Reid…and you…." Jabbing the gun down in pointing it at me. "You know it was you. Think it over Dr Reid…think it over."

-o-o-o-

I'm at a table…but I am in shackles and they are attached to a ring on the floor. My head is on the table and I have had my eyes shut…but I don't think I am sleeping…I don't think I've been asleep…that's not something I do….but I don't remember how I got here….so I'm going to keep my eyes shut and just sit….

I stink.

And I wonder how long it's been since they let me use the bathroom….and how many times I've vomited down my front….I am guessing not often for the first and a lot for the second. I lick me lips and sigh.

"Are you understanding what I am saying to you?"

So I turn my head and lift it off the table and look at the person on the other side of the metal table which is embedded into the floor.

"What?"

and the bloke sighs.

"Mr Franks, I need you to listen to me and try to answer the questions."

I shift in my chair and sit back…my hands are at my sides and held there by chains….and I still have something around my face to stop me biting, but it's smaller…and less of my face is covered.

"Can I have your full name? For the record." He has a recording devise on the table but I can't reach it.

"For the record….screw you." I smile at him. "Did you find out about Agent Reid?" I'm sure I told them to at some point…or did I imagine it?

"Do you have an address? Family we can contact?"

I mumble my address…or more accurately Spencer's address at him.

"Family?"

I shake my head…. "No one who will want to know I got pissed on for not having my helm on."

"Mr Franks…Do you really believe that is why you are here?"

"The events which lead up to me ripping them apart and eating their hearts and livers…yes…that is why they pulled me over…that is why I am here."

"Mr Franks…Can you see that what you did was wrong?"

And I lay my head back on the table…."This line of questioning is going to get us no where."

……………….you see…there is this thing I can do…………..and I don't do it with everything because I can't…but they are stupid mothers and they don't know this…and so all I have to do now is sit and wait….no point in doing it for a crowd of one….I want to show more…..so I wait….and yes in the end more guys come in……..and I can actually say with quite a big of accuracy that this sort of thing gets my hormones racing big time….It makes me hungry and thirsty and makes me want to fuck everything and anything…male or female….doesn't even have to be human….though adult is preferable…..

My thoughts drift to Sam and then back again to the crowd gathering…..and then to the cops and it makes my mouth water and I keep my head on it's side on the table and I am drooling rather a lot and twitching a bit and they are saying things to me that I am ignoring.

Well look at that….or don't…no don't! Turn your dirty faces away I don't think you want to see what I am going to do next……

……………….there is a lot of noise going on………clink……………they didn't hear it………………..ping…………………….oh shit I am going to orgasm with pleasure here…I'm not going to be able to stop myself……I move slowly…and glance around me…….

And carefully…………….

……………………..ah shit…I'm giggling…………I can't stop myself!

And I reach up and unclip the thing around my face and drop it to the table and stand up and the bloke asking the questions is spurting blood almost right into my mouth before anyone realises what's happened………..

…………………..and I am laying across the table and I am howling with delight………………..and I can feel hands on me and hear people screaming….but hey……….

………..I was hungry…….and I needed a fuck………….and………….well……….they didn't cut my fingernails…………..and…………….

nothing like screwing something you just killed.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9 Dirty

Chapter 9

Dirty

* * *

Ever increasing large amount of shit I am ending up in for no bloody reason.

…………………I have no idea what happened.

I remember I was talking to some jerk off then ……………..now I am here.

Looking around me I see nothing but not quite white walls and floor and ceiling. Been in places like this before…the good old rubber room and the good old straight-jacket.

….I'm in a corner and I am sitting wondering what fuck I did. I can't remember a damned thing. I need my stash…I need a smoke to get my brain working properly….I need to snort some powder but they wouldn't understand that…They don't realise I have needs.

I'm washed. Or at least I don't seem to stink of vomit….maybe just a change of clothes did that. I seem to be in orange now. Some kind of heavy duty cotton….probably all in one crap suit…and I wonder how many people saw my arse this time. They seem to get pleasure out of stripping me off when I am out of it.

I can feel the sluggish pumping of drugs going through my system…and I can feel places where they stuck something in me….And I get sudden flashbacks of darts….they shot me with fucking tranquillising darts……I'm not a damned animal. Bastards.

The thing is around my head again….and I am about to wriggle away from the wall and see if I can get out of the jacket, but I'm attached to the wall. So I lean my head back and close my eyes and wonder where Spencer is…and Ardal….and then I wonder why thinking of them isn't making my heart pound and my blood rush in my ears…and why it doesn't make me horny…No more than thinking about where the hell my clothes are.

……………It's the drug……I know that….I need to get it out of me…….adjust my body and absorb them but it doesn't seem to be working too well…………I can still feel them there…….and I wonder how the hell this happened.

I don't hear anyone come in the room….but they are suddenly there…lined against the wall next to the door…and they seem rather heavily armed and again I wonder what the hell I did….My face itches but I just look over at them and blink.

The guy who steps forward is in protective gear and it causes me to raise an eye brow and just look at him.

"Mr Franks." His voice is hard. He's not amused. "I need to tell you something and I need you to listen." He crouches down so he is on more of an eye level with me. "Can you recall what happened?"

I'm decided I don't want to talk to his shit. I'll just sit and look at him.

"When you were in the room and the lawyer was talking to you. Can you tell me what you remember?"

I sniff up a small trickle of blood trying to escape from my nose but don't answer him.

"By refusing to talk Mr Franks does not, I'm afraid show me that you are not understanding…you are just showing me that you know when to keep your mouth shut."

So I lick my lips and see him jump slightly at my reaction. "How can I understand something when I don't know what you're talking about?" I hiss out at him. "I remember talking to some guy and I remember I had chains and crap. Then I am here. If there is more then you're gonna have t'tell me cos I don't have a fucking clue what the hell is going on anymore." And I think my voice is rising in anger and I can see weapons being raised and pointed at me…."Are those the fucking elephant tranquillisers you used on me earlier? Shit – no wonder I can't remember fuck all…you hit me with that crap and expect me to know what's going on?"

"Mr Franks the security is necessary. You killed a number of armed personnel. We would like to know how you got out of the chains and face harness."

"I'm sure you'd like to know that…but you fucked with me one time too many so I think I'll keep that nugget of information to myself….unless…We can maybe come to some kind of deal here."

"Our treatment of you Mr Franks is completely reactionary. When you are behaving and coherent as you are now…then there is no problem. You do need to try to keep this control. Tell me about the deal you are thinking about Mr Franks…though I cannot promise you I will agree with it."

He is relaxing a bit…. But the blokes with the elephant guns are still with it and they don't look like a very happy lot of bunnies.

"When I was picked up." I say to this bloke… "I was on my way to help a friend in distress. I need to know if he is alright." Ah yes…I am worried about Spence…so shoot me….no actually don't…but yeah…I'm worried. There is this rule you see….only I am allowed to hurt him…and he went off this morning…or whenever the hell it was hurt…and now he is hurting even more…and I need to fix that. I need to do a bit of apologetic lip grinding with him…then kill Derek Morgan.

I blink.

"So who is it you are worried about?"

A sigh…here it comes….oh god…here it comes….I know this is good for me…the sounding of my heart and the sweat suddenly popping out on my brow, but this bloke has noticed and is standing up again…

"Agent Reid." I mutter….Shit…they won't believe me.

The bloke looks at me though and frowns at me. "Agent? What sort of agent?"

"Fed."

"And what is your interest in a Federal Agent?"

And he is frowning at me. "I fuck him." And now I frown cos that's not what I wanted to say.

-o-o-o-

He has left me laying in the dirt on the floor of this room and I can hear him clearly. I can hear what he is saying to Reid and for a short while I don't understand what he is meaning. I can't hear Reid's replies…I have to imagine what his responses to these accusations are. He seems to be implying that Reid has infected him with something…and in turn he has infected Emily and myself.

My eye is swollen shut now and it feels like I have some loose teeth. I run my tongue carefully around my mouth and lay still watching this man rant at Spencer.

……….he is attempting to break him…and I am afraid he is closer to it than even Hankel got.

Slowly and carefully I move slightly to see if he notices…and as he doesn't I move a bit more. I can see the bat laying on the floor not far away. I need to crawl slowly and get it…hide it under me…and lay still…I have a plan….

Again I can hear him shouting at Reid….he is calling him a dirty pervert….a murderer….He is telling him how he could have him locked away for what he did.

Unprotected sex?

…………………………..Spencer had sex with this man?

I crawl a bit further and lay still. I am trying to get my thoughts straight in my head…and all I can see is Reid's wet back….the way his towel slipped…the way he would stand facing his locker and take deep breaths….was he waiting for me to do something? All that time I watched and he let me…he wanted more? I don't want my thoughts to go in that direction…not now.

He is talking about someone else to Reid now….someone they both seem to know. I wish I could hear what Spencer was saying…is he denying it? Is he admitting it? Does he really know this person? I can't make a judgement without knowing both sides…

One more painful crawl and the bat handle is under my fingers…

……quickly I drag it and hide it under myself. I lay deadly still for a while…and he is still ranting at Reid….

"Do it! You know you want to…finish it now."

………………………….A continual barrage at him….I have to stop it…I have to get close enough

"You're as good as dead anyway…There's no cure for the dirt running through your veins."

A bit closer….and I think my side is bleeding again…I lay still and carefully put my fingers over the weeping hole…It's not too bad. This won't kill me…but those words might kill Reid. Again I move…I am about fifteen foot away from him.

……………………….The lights are flickering and I think this is what is giving me the advantage here. The shadows are jumping anyway…small movement will maybe not be seen….but then maybe it will. I don't take the risk…and I move forwards again…

-o-o-o-

I'm sitting again…with my legs pulled up close and my arm resting on my knees. I am pointing the gun a bit over in his direction but I am shaking too much to keep it locked on him. The sweat is pouring down my face and I keep having to blink away the wet from my eyes.

He is shouting down at me. Telling me how it is…and he doesn't need to….I know how it is…I know what I am…

………..now that he has said it like this……..when I am with Floyd it feels different…………..exciting……………a weird sort of adventure…………...like something kids would do………..but with an adult theme………it makes sense.

But now……..with that face looking down at me…..with the gun in my hand and the other pointing at me…..now….it doesn't make any kind of sense at all.

………….."Derek Morgan!" I hear the name bellowed down at me. I am only taking in half of what he is saying now….and it makes me look up at him…..My vision is more blurred now and his face is just a fuzzy smudge. I want to swallow but my throat is too sore and swollen….and so I look at the fuzzy image and blink again and lick my lips and hold the gun tighter in my lap…….."Talk to me Dr Reid….Tell me what you want to do to Derek Morgan. Tell me if you've spread your disease to him too. I really want to know….I want to hear your thoughts on it Dr Reid."

So I look away and try to think of things other than the locker room and the hot breath on my neck and the way he worked me with his fingers and was really all things considered 'gentle' with me….more so than Floyd has ever been. I'm sure he can read my thoughts …I don't know if I should try to get rid of these images in my head….the smells….the smell of Morgan and the smell of me…..and tears join the sweat on my face. What have I done? How many people have I infected? And I would have Ardal too….have I infected him? And Hotch….if he had….if I had felt his hot breath on my back and his tongue on the back of my neck…? What then? I would have as good as killed him too? And Floyd? Why won't he let me get tested? Why? When we have talked it over there have been logical reasons why there is no point and now….now there is nothing.

I move my head around a bit…my neck hurts and I think my glands are up…I can't see it….but I know that my foot is infected where the hole was made by the glass….and it feels so long ago that it all happened…

He is shouting at me again…but I've started coughing…and it hurts so damned much I want to scream…I can taste fresh blood in my mouth….and as I cough I feel more bubbling up through my chest and out onto my arm…

I can't move my hand to get the blood out of my mouth so I just spit it out…and it foams and trickles down my chin and I look at it soaking through my shirt bright red and dangerous….a killer…how can that been so lethal?

………….I'm not stupid…………Really I'm not…..I've acted like a fool…..I've run around with my Floyd shaped shield for as long as I can remember…and my common sense has often been in question – but never my book smarts. That is after all what it is…I just remember so why don't I remember him?

Because he is most likely right…..I didn't see his face……because I am dirty scum…

Because I am a freak.

Because even Floyd has thrown me aside….and Morgan committed the crime of taking what I have been flaunting…even though I didn't think I was…I must have been…..

My name is being shouted at me….but I don't want to listen anymore….I can't listen…I hold he gun in my hands and remember what it was like feeling it in my mouth….my final blow job….Floyd would find that amusing.

"Are you listening to me?"

No I wasn't…I was lifting the gun off my lap and looking at it…but I look up at him now and try to hear what he is saying but the blood is rushing through my ears now and I cant hear him….and so I look back down and check the round is in the right place and I lift it and show it to him……

"OK……..just shut up." I mutter at him… "Just give me a few seconds."

But he doesn't.

He keeps it up….

He doesn't let me forget what filth I am…and what I have done…

………………..so I turn it and look at what he wants me to do and I tip my head back and place it under my chin. I hold it tightly trying not to shake….but he is shouting at me again….and so I look at his face and he is shouting…..

"I want you to suck it …..in your mouth your freak….like you take that pervert in yours."

………………….The metal is warm against my lips….it was cold before… but I've been sitting here hugging it like a baby and now it feels warm….I look up at him….but I don't want him to be the last thing I see…I want it to be Floyd….but he's not here……he is with Ardal…..in my bed…..screwing in my bed…..and

………………..I see his start to move…….he jerks forwards slightly……and I watch him for a second….and then close my eyes…………………..

and his gun…….his gun fires…….and I hear a yelp of pain….and someone screams….and my hand cramps……

and I cant move it…….and I feel something ripping into my leg…and then brushing the side of my face and my hand twitches……..and my fingers spasm….and I pull the trigger.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10 Being Frank

Chapter 10

Being Frank

* * *

And it is with great regret that I have to inform you that they pissed me off again.

…………and the whatever it was holding me back…..it sort of came undone………….

And the guy in his protective suit took a step back because once this happens to you one time….well you work out….you research….(happy are those who love to research)….and I am very flexible, so Spencer tells me.

A GRIN.

And well…you know how it happens…over before you know it…and I am standing with the jacket at my feet and my hands pulling the cage off my face.

…………….I remember calling them all sons of bitches whore dogs.

And

I remember telling them that they will….definitely….I can guarantee…one hundred fucking percent….see me in hell.

Three darts hit me in the chest….and I know I pulled them out and threw them back…My system metabolised the shit and I flipped them the bird. The next six darts….they are the ones I think…..I think it was them…they were just a bit too much.

…………There are alarm bells ringing….claxons going off….and the room starts spinning around….and laying on my face on the squishy floor is the last thing I remember…until now.

"Are you listening?"

They keep asking me to listen…then follow it with questions.

"Franks. Look at me."

…………I'm restrained again…..but I don't think I'm going to doing much moving from here. I feel a bit sort of knackered.

I open my eyes and look up at the ceiling. White….and a long strip light. I blink and search the room for the owner of the voice.

"I would like to do this with your consent, but I will do it anyway."

So I swallow and look at the bloke in glasses. "Do what?

"I am going to induce seizures. They will only last a few seconds….but I am hoping that after a few sessions it will settle the problem you have with you excessive manic episodes."

"You are going to electrocute me and reboot my brain?" My face itches again… "Did they ask about Agent Reid?" I need to know he is OK…Just curiosity…

"I would like you to give your consent."

"Did they ask?"

"Franks." And he takes a step away from me. "You are not listening to me. This is why you are getting yourself into so much trouble….Now listen."

I don't want to listen…I need answers. "Did they fucking well ask!?"

He takes a step back from me and looks at someone else and now I notice that there are lots of people in the room and they are all looking at me.

"Fine…we will do it anyway." And he is gone.

"Did they ask?!" I am suddenly overcome with a siding red rage and I would kill them….kill them every last fucking one of them….if I could move. "Just tell me he is ok."

Something is stinging the back of my hand and I glance down the see a needle thing there and they are injecting chemicals into the back of my hand… "Just for fucks sake…let me know he is ok." And my eyes get hard to keep open and I need to quickly absorb this shit….

……………..I think…….it feels like…..I – am………….I am…………foaming at the mouth…….and I think…………..it sounds like……….I am screaming…………abuse…..but it might be someone else…………………but it's in a language I think only I will understand…………..me and the million demons living in my head .

-o-o-o-

I hit him.

I hit him damned hard too.

I thought for a horrible moment that he heard it swishing as it swung through the air but he was too busy shouting down at Reid.

He makes a funny yelping sound as I smack the bat as hard as I can around the back of his head….but I see the gun in his hand bucking too late. I see as he turns and backs away that he is pressing down on the trigger and I hear a scream of anguish but I don't know if it is me or Spencer or the UnSub…I hope – I really hope it is the UnSub…I don't need that howl of pain to be Reid.

Pulling back again he begins to turn…and he does…I hear a weapon discharge from down with Reid.

……………..it's only for a second, but it's long enough to distract me and my next hit misses and is followed up by a smack from the rifle in my midriff.

I don't howl in pain….I don't scream….but a sound of air leaving my lungs too quickly escapes from between my battered lips.

I try to keep close. I need to stay close enough that he can't use his weapon on me, but I need to also have enough range for the bat…

……………..keeping moving……I keep moving…and trying to get my breath back again….he is stepping back and I am moving back in and to his side….To disarm him is my main concern now. I am ignoring the feeling of fresh blood down my side….I am ignoring the horrible silence from down where I heard the gun fire….and I am trying to take out of my head the image of Spencer with that gun placed between his lips.

A smack the side of my head when I was distracted by thoughts of Reid again send me back…and for a second or two it looks like he will swing the gun around and open fire…. But I close in and this time I grab for his arm…I need to disarm the guy and gain control again. I need to be in control of this.

………………………A punch to the side of my head brings stars to my vision….and now we are fighting like a couple of old time pugilists.

One smack follows a knee and a foot grinding stomp….

…………..an upwards smash under his chin finally sends him backwards….

I watch then follow him…he still has the weapon in his hand as he falls backwards and downwards pulling on the trigger as he goes. I stand in the spot lights and breathe a sigh of relief for just one intake…then with my hand back over my bleeding wound I move forwards and with fear deep down at what I might see I look down into the pit.

-o-o-o-

The cramps and seizing up of my hand meant that when that finger pulled the trigger I shot myself in the shoulder. I can hear blood rushing in my ears and I can feel blood pumping from a hole in my leg….just below my right knee and then straight through to my upper leg where I think it might have got stuck in the bone…I'm not sure….

My face…something ripped along the side of it and as I drop the useless gun into the muck on the floor I raise my hand to my face and feel the rip and what I think might be bone…

………….I'm bleeding out of too many places. Too much blood loss…and as the gun opens fire again and the UnSub falls head first into the pit I find the world is going very dark again. I'm still alive…

for now…………

but I really don't want to be………..

…………….I want it to be over…………and so I let my body slide sideways and I let my face fall into the muck…and even if I wanted to ….if I changed my mind….now I can't ….I'm not going to be moving from here…..not ever…….

………….I'm sorry.

I am so sorry Emily………….I am sorry Hotch………..

And it's alright…..really it is alright………….because when Floyd dragged me out of my bed………..no…before then………….when Morgan took me………when Morgan bit on the side of my neck and I pushed back trying to get the right angle….when I made those little noises I make just before I finish….

…………it ended then.

-o-o-o-

………………….Where the fuck am I?

my head feels like it's been stamped on by – by ………something big…..but I can't think what…or why……...

I roll onto my side and see the floor and it's not a floor I know…or is it?

"Franks?"

Someone speaks to me so I look over at them and blink and lick my lips and vomit. A lot….on that unfamiliar floor.

"It's not a problem. Don't worry."

I'm not worried.

………………………..I try to work out what I have been eating but it looks like runny grey shit…and I ant think when I last ate something like that…actually…can't remember when I last ate.

"How are you feeling?"

Like that which I just expelled from my guts….but I don't say that…I just look up at him and frown.

"I'll get someone to come and clean up…can you just lay on your back for me please?" And he is pressing a thing…what is it? A thingy….button thing….I can't recall the name of it…but it's….a …buzzer? Is that the right word?

I lay on my back and bring my hand up to my face….There is a strap across my face which is held at the back and it sort of covers my mouth with a grill…a vomit covered grill.

Closer inspection of my hands reveals that I have dressings over the ends of my fingers…and I wonder if I exploded….and it would be nice to be able to pull them off but I can't get them to my teeth…

"Don't." A hand takes mine and moves my hands from my face. The voice is back again. "You had minor surgery on your hands. You need to let it heal"

……………disinfectant. I love that smell….I turn my head and look at the bloke with a thing….one of those things you clean floors with on a long stick thing….and that word has gone too….but that's ok…I know what it looks like and I don't intend saying it. I remember disinfectant though……and floors……….

I get a flash of an image of cleaning floors….bleaching them….keeping them good….and as quickly as it is there it is gone again.

There is muttering going on between different people at different times, but I think there must be a gap between the times because I don't actually remember them arriving or leaving….Just being there….

They stick needles under my skin and take blood. They shine lights into my eyes and remove the dressings from my fingers then replace them with fresh….I want to see what they have done….but they are 'umming' and 'arring' and they don't seem to want to communicate with me except to say.

"Well done Frank."

And the name feels like someone else should own it…but it must be mine because that is what they are calling me.

………………I don't know what is well done though. Did I do something? I don't know. Seems I have bits…chunks….missing…somewhere…I need to find my chunks….and I roll to my side and look at the floor again….but it is clean.

"We will continue the treatment."

Someone says…and I look up at the person in a white coat thing and wonder what treatment. Will it help me remember? Maybe I could ask…but I don't.

Something in my head is telling me to not say anything….that talking got me here in the first place…that this is maybe not the best place to be….and I get hot…I get too hot….And my vision gets cloudy and fuzzy….

I can see though…I am with someone. Someone tall and skinny and I am fucking him……

And the temperature goes up and I am sweating and I think I might be drooling….and things are being stuck under my skin….needles and crap and however fuzzy and distorted it was….it's going….going gone………………

……………………back again……………..strapped down………….I think…………..

"Frank. We are giving you ECT….do you know what that means?"

………………"Fuck you ….you sons of bitches whore dogs……you stinking piles of shit!"

and it all goes very dark again.

-o-o-o-

When I look down into the pit I can see in the darkness the UnSub laying still and twisted….and I see Reid on his front in the filth….Please oh god please no. I scan the room quickly but there doesn't seem to be anything…I will have to jump down and hope that Prentiss or someone eventually arrives.

I drop down as carefully as I can. Laying on my front and sliding my feet over the edge and shouting out "Prentiss!" and hoping she can hear me…and hoping she can get here. It's not bad landing….One of my feet slips slightly and my ankle tries to give way under me but I'm OK…..

I move down to my hands and knees and crawl to where Reid is laying….it's too dark to see what damage has been done, but I roll him over on to his back and wipe his face quickly with my hands….I place my fingers on the side of his neck and feel for a pulse….

My own heart is racing so fast that I'm not sure….so I put my head to his chest. His arm seems to be held firmly in place across his chest and it's not easy to tell….but I can hear nothing….I can see that the gun couldn't have been in his mouth when he fired it.

……………. "Reid." I whisper to him…."Reid…it's over." But he's not responding…and I can't do chest compressions with his arm where it is…

I know it's not procedure anymore…but I tip his head back and hold his nose and breathe my life into his lungs…… "Breathe for me Spencer….don't die on me now….breathe." I manage to force my hand under his arm…and a flow of blood suddenly starts and he is making odd gasping noises and blood is bubbling out of a wound in his chest.

"Reid….stay with me now…I have you."

I want to scream.

I want to go the UnSub and hit his until his skull splits, but I don't. I stay with Reid who is shaking and making dreadful sounds of someone dying and I don't want to be the one who brought him back from a painless sleep to sit in the dark and filth and watch him die in such fear and pain. I put a hand on the side of his face and feel blood and mess and I bite on my bottom lip and wonder where else he has been hurt….apart from his mind….

And I take my hand away from his face and hold my hand up and look at the blood and then I look down at Reid and remember the words being shouted at him…and my skin crawls with fear and my head is full of questions I will need answered.

"Hotch!"

And Emily is looking down….

"I'll get something to get you out." And I watch her shadow move away again and as she moves I feel Spencer's hand on me.

"I'm sorry."

And he starts to cough and he is foaming pink bubbles at his mouth but I hold on to his hand and talk quietly as his back arches and he tries to breathe…. "Stay with me Reid….we are here now…we are getting you out."

But I have a horrible feeling that we are way too late.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11 Chemical

Chapter 11

Chemical

* * *

They are talking about me again….

I can hear them but I'm not making a lot of sense out of it…

…………..My head………..feels like I've been licking the live rail on the rail tracks….

Again

But I don't think I have because I would remember that….

"No records."

But I don't know what they mean by that.

"Doesn't exist."

And I do exist so they aren't talking about me….I wonder if I have been sleeping, but I think not. I think I would have dreams….I might remember things.

"Franks."

……………..I don't want to respond to that name. I don't think it's mine, but I don't know what it is so I will leave it be for now.

"They wont take him. No one wants this responsibility."

I wish I knew what they were talking about…I might be able to help them…but they aren't talking to me…they are talking about me.

"Bastards." I manage to mutter that and I can spit…but that's about it….

I can see them all looking at me.

"You are awake?" And a question finally directed at me.

"I feel like shit. What did you do to me?" My throat hurts.

"You are undergoing intensive therapy. We are trying to help you." The owner of the voice steps closer. "We would like your permission to try something."

"My sexual energy is running high right now…when did I last have a fuck or blow?"

They don't answer my question…which I thought was a pretty darn good one. I don't know….

"And I want a smoke."

"We might be able to arrange that for you if you listen to me for a while and answer my questions as best you can."

"What…what do you want to know…because I think you might know more than I do anyway….you screwed with my head…I know you did."

The guy steps forward. "We need your permission to perform surgery." I can see he looks a bit worried……… "We hope it will help you with your problem."

But I don't have a damned problem….they are the ones with the problem. "What problem?" Stupid arses.

"Your memory….you inability to stay calm….your sexual desires….we can help you….you will be able to live a more normal life."

"You want to hack around in side my skull so I wont want to fuck?" I don't know if I am more horrified or amused. "You think that will make me normal? What do you class as normal?"

He nods at me… condescending prick. "You have a choice. You can spend the rest of your life locked in a six by six room and never have human contact again. You will be castrated and we will remove your teeth…Or you can volunteer surgery and hope it allows you to at least be able to be amongst other people occasionally. Either way Franks…the courts have decided that you are dangerous and incurable."

"The courts? How long have I been here?"

He shakes his head…"We really do need an answer Franks – by tomorrow." He turns to the row of people behind him. "Give him a blast of what the rest of his miserable life will be like if he doesn't agree."

Against the fucking law…against the human rights shit…they can't do this….but they do…and they throw the switch anyway….and this time they keep me awake for every sodding blinding minute…and I can hear blood vessels popping with the strain…and I am spitting and drooling and thinking… Bastards …. I should be remembering something…and can't!

-o-o-o-

I am sitting in the hospital.

Again.

I spend too much time in hospitals.

Emily is with me. I asked her to join me. I need to talk things over with her. I need to know exactly what happened. It's a bit of a blur to me. I need to tell her what I found out. I need to tell her that the bloods are back…I need to give her the results. I feel sick….not because of the pain meds I am on. Not because I have constant visions in my head of Reid struggling to stay alive…that is something I will have to learn to live with. They pain will pass…my flesh will heal…but my heart and my spirit won't.

We made sure that not one of our injured was alone when they awoke. Morgan had Garcia with him…I was with Dave….Emily was with Reid. I wanted to be with him…I needed to be, but I couldn't. I couldn't look at that face…that thin pale...sick face. There were too many questions I needed to ask him…and I didn't want to know the answers.

"Prentiss. Sit…please sit." I am tired of watching her pace the room….She knows I have something to say. She must have known from the time I told her not to touch Reid. Not to get blood on her…she must have guessed something.

She is dressed sharp today. I don't know if there is a special occasion or if she just fancied dressing up…but she is in a business suit…and she's had her hair trimmed back again…No makeup…but tinted glasses sit on her nose. To cover the signs of crying…we have all done that.

"I know." She says…before I have the chance to say anything. "Reid is HIV positive."

But I shake my head. "No…no he's not."

And she looks confused.

"It was the UnSub."

And her eyes drop and she looks at the table.

"I assumed….I thought it was Reid."

And I shake my head. "Thank god no."

"Then why the rage against him…why the game…why did he do that to Spencer?"

"I'm hoping it will be something he will be able to answer, when he is ready. Emily…" I look at her directly in her shades. "You need to go and have a blood test. The chances are very low. Very. But you still need to be tested." She nods at me and pulls the glasses off her face and rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Hotch…" I can see frown lines between her eyes now. "Who alerted the authorities that something was wrong? He had killed everyone except us….who called it in?"

But I don't know…it was anonymous as far as I could tell. Someone reported that Reid was in danger…I don't' know who it was. Garcia has tried to track it….but we come up blank. "We are still working on that one."

I wonder…I think…we should check out Reid's apartment. He will be in hospital for a while yet. We need to go and make sure all is OK.

……………..and so the pair of us are standing outside his apartment door. I have a spare key. We all do…to each other's places, but I've never used Reid's. I am slightly surprised that it opens so easily. It hadn't been double locked and the alarm is not set. He must have just left and let the door close behind him.

I have been here before. A while ago…..but I don't think Emily has ever been here. It smells funny. Which in a sad but good way I am happy about. No one has been here. We pull out our flashlights and slowly after closing the door behind us walk around his apartment.

There is something off about it and I can't quite put my finger on it.

…we walk into the kitchen and look around…mugs in the sink not washed…three mugs. A little cartoon drawing and a note from someone on the side with a thin layer of dust over it – we pull on gloves but

still we don't touch anything.

Spencer's privacy is being horribly invaded here but I need to know who that UnSub was and we still have no name and no way to identify him. That went when he broke his neck in the fall. His finger prints came back with no matches. He wasn't someone known to the police. Just someone known to Spencer. Therefore it must have been personal. Three mugs….Emily is bagging them….maybe he had been here. Maybe Reid just didn't wash his mugs up? The next port of call is his lounge…the throw from the back of his couch is screwed up and stuffed into the corner of the couch….there is nothing else out of place though….

"Do you think someone slept on the couch…the day before? The night before? He had a guest?" Emily is scanning the room with her flashlight and I scratch at an itch on my neck.

"I'm not sure. See if there is alcohol anywhere….he had been drinking."

I can see the surprised look on her face. "Spencer?"

And I shrug… "He was hung over Prentiss…he had been drinking somewhere for a reason. I need to know what that reason was."

We open cupboards and find nothing. Not even an old bottle of wine.

"Hotch."

I look over at Emily who is standing looking at something on the desk…she's looking puzzled.

"Reid doesn't drink or go clubbing, but he had been out drinking…right?" I nod at her and walk over to see what she has found. "He also doesn't smoke…but there are four butts in this ashtray….What would he even own an ashtray for?" I stand and frown at it too. Maybe this was part of the reason for the odd smell. They look like hand rolled smokes of some kind…dark…I pick one up and hold it to my nose and inhale.

"I think I would know if he had been smoking that." I say and drop the stinking thing back into the ashtray. "So he had a friend over who slept on the couch?"

And Prentiss shrugs. "I'll bag these….we at least can try to find out if it is Reid's DNA on them."

While she does that I go to the bedroom…it's on my way there that I notice his broken glasses on the small hall table and a mug smashed on the floor…with a dried up puddle of something around it. I crouch down to get a better look and then look behind me…something thrown from inside the bedroom door; I thought….so there would be my next port of call. Standing slowly I walk to the door and place my hand on the handle…

As I do so a hand rests on my arm. "Do you want me to check the bathroom?" and I nod….for some reason I don't want Prentiss in Reid's bedroom. I don't want to be in there. It's too private. He wouldn't want me doing this…I push the door inwards and shine my flashlight around the room…the bed is unmade…another thing I wouldn't have expected from Reid, and it is very messy. A lot of activity went on in that bed….the pillows are on the floor and the bottom sheet is pulled up and un-tucked at the bottom. A single white sheet is on the floor with the pillows. A big double bed. Shining the flashlight over the bed I can see scrape marks on the side of the head board….as though something is tied there…I frown…I don't want that image in my head now…so I make a note of getting his bedding bagged and I turn to the drawer in the side cabinet next to the bed.

It opens easily.

And really….I wish it had stuck….I wish it had been locked….I wish I had never seen it. More of what seemed to be unsmoked rollups…squares of silver foil….a lighter…cotton wool…a cork…some cigarette filters…a few tubes of lube and cord…rope…and other strange sex toys I don't even want to think about their usage….let alone Reid using them. My stomach is twisting and it hurts…it hurts so damned much. I close the drawer…that was private. No one else needs to know about that. I make note of the used ashtray on the top of the cupboard and then move away. The wardrobe is next…and again not really what I expected. Reid's shirts…obviously his hang on the left…on the right…a totally different type of clothing hangs…I doubt it would fit Spencer if he wanted to wear it. I pull out a shirt and look at the label in the back…designer clothing…and too small…definitely for Spencer.

Foot ware in the bottom is also mixed….some would fit Reid…but I had never seen him in things like this…and others would be too small….but all male….and again my stomach hitches uncomfortably. I don't like what I am seeing.

The chest of drawers reveals two different sets of clothing but again amongst what is obviously Reid's things are odd garments I would never imagine him wearing. I close them again and look up to see Prentiss standing with another couple of bags in her hand.

"He is co-habiting with another man." She says. And again I don't want to think about it… but she is right….that is the only answer. I swallow and look up at her…she has tooth brushes and razors. I sigh.

"It would seem that way. Bag the bedding." And I walk back to the lounge.

-o-o-o-

"It is called chemical castration." And they are holding needles and looking at me hoping I will confirm that I know what they are doing.

"Fuck you all!" and I am pissed with them.

"Agree to surgery and I will put this away."

Anything….any damned thing other that sticking that mother in my balls.

"OK…OK! Just keep that the hell away from me."

-o-o-o-

I am on some kind of medication to stop the pain…a deep horrible pain with every breath. It isn't working very well….but I'm getting better…slowly…the wounds will heal. They didn't think they would…they thought I was going to die…and I wanted to. I needed to….but now I am just confused.

I wonder what happened to Floyd…I am that forgettable….and replaceable…one error…a pretty big one…but it was a mistake….one wrong turn and I am forgotten. All those years….all those things…all for nothing…and again I wish I could curl up and die, but I'm not going to permit him to win this one….

I'm not going to let him destroy me….

………..so I keep on breathing….and I try to smile at my team mates….even at Morgan…..and I am going to be OK….I know I am.

………………so why do they all look so sad?

* * *


	12. Chapter 12 Paper Plates and Finger Food

Chapter 12

Paper Plates and Finger Food

* * *

They say time heals….what rubbish.

I'm alone at last.

They stayed….and even slept on the couch….I don't know what they thought I was going to do.

My leg hurts. My face is healed. It hurts when I breathe too deeply…a small stabbing reminder…but it will pass.

Eventually.

And finally the last person goes through my door and I can close it and lock it and throw the bolt and switch on the alarm and feel……….

I am meant to feel safe…but I feel horribly exposed.

My shield has gone…and I don't know where….and I don't know how to find out. For quite a long time I just stand with my back against the door and look at my empty apartment.

Everyone has gone…..but maybe I don't want to be alone. Maybe I need them back again….or maybe it is Floyd I need back.

…………I consider calling Ardal. Asking him if he knows…..knows where Floyd is…but my fear that he is with. him is far too great. I couldn't deal with that thought right now.

Hotch….I know he wants to talk to me about something….I can feel the tension whenever he is with me alone…but he never actually asks…or says….I see Emily giving me odd looks too…Something they know…they both know….and I need to know too….but would it be too painful?

Finally I am walking to the kitchen…sugar…in my coffee and then I walk to the bedroom…..

It's mid day so I pull back the drapes and let some light into the room. The bed is made up still. I have been shutting myself in here every night alone and sleeping on the floor. I can't even touch the bed….It hurts…those constant flashes of memory and smells…

And sounds.

I close the door to the room and walk to the wardrobe. Without even looking I grab at Floyd's clothing and hurl it on to the bed. I would swear….I would scream….and I feel like taking a big knife to them all and acting like the faggot melodramatic queen I want to be right now….but I stop myself. I don't know what I will do with his things….but the chances I will be getting rid of any of it are very slim. The things in the drawers are thrown to join his odd collection of waistcoats and shirts….and I am crying and I need to stop now….I don't want to cry about this. He's not worth it. Ardal is not worth it. I will find someone else.

Isn't this what it is all about….I found someone else…and that someone was gentle.

Running my fingers through my hair I walk to the drawer next to the bed and pull it open.

His things still sit there and alarm bells are trying to ring in my head but I wont let them…they are trying to confuse me.

…………………………so why am I laying back on a pile of my ex lover's clothes smoking one of his disgusting smokes and snivelling like a child……..why do I smoke it all and feel sick and in pain……and why am I curling up onto my side and holding the clothing to me and taking in that Floydian scent and making them damp with my tears. Why am I doing this if I don't care?

I reach over and put my hand into the drawer and pull out a few things and roll onto my back again holding them up in front of me and again I don't know if I should be smiling at the memory or shouting at the loss.

-o-o-o-

Can't hear properly.

It's always like I am underwater…..

I can't see properly…they've put glasses on me and it hasn't made a lot of difference. It still looks like there is a fuzzy fog everywhere and they tell me that this is the best they can do.

I have a room….

Of my own…..and once a day they let me out and take me to the shower block.

They don't let me mix unattended.

"You're not ready yet Frankie."

I don't like them calling me that….but it's that or a list of numbers I can never remember…so I let them call me Frankie for now….

…………..Sometimes my head spins so fast that I fall down and the people on escort duty sometimes catch me and sometimes let me go down…and sometimes they help me go down harder with a kick.

You know what?

I don't know what this place is….and I know I haven't always been here….but I don't know what was here in my head before.

………….because I know they hacked bits of my brain out. They told me that….that told me they would do it again if I didn't behave…..so I am trying to think…..always trying to think what was there before I was this nothing I am now.

Sometimes there is a flash of an image…..or a sudden smell…..and I will hear a voice I know…and I think….for a little while that it might be coming back to me….but it's gone almost as quickly as it was there.

"Anyone at home today?" Someone is saying to me….and I turn slowly to look at this person. A guard of some kind. "Strip off…Shower…hurry up."

So I nod at him and un-do the buttons on the front of my jumpsuit and let it slide off my arms and then I step out of it. The guard gives me a small slither of soap and pushes me under the water.

"Don't forget to do your hair." He says to me. And I wonder if I sometimes forget.

I soap myself carefully. I run my hands over myself and across my chest and I get a good amount of lather and I soap my hair too.

Sometimes……..I think…sometimes I get a funny tickle in my brain when I am doing this….it's like something is screaming at me from a long way off…something saying "Hey Frankie you forgot something again." But I can't remember what it was I forgot.

I don't get the option of drying myself….I get dressed wet and they are standing watching me ….watching everything I do….

"What?" I say to them….but they don't answer….

"Get a move on." Is all they say and so I walk back to my room…

And again…sometimes….there are other people around in the same colour kit as me…and they shout things at me….but I ignore them…I don't forget their faces….but I ignore the words…and I think maybe they shouldn't be there.

…………………I get food I pick with my fingers off a paper plate and drink from a paper cup and they stand and watch me and then they take the rubbish and close my door and that is it. That is all I get to see until the next day when the do the same again.

Someone has been in my room….they have cleaned the toilet and washed the floor and changed the paper sheet on the bed….and here I am……………………….

And my brain is tickling me……I run my fingers over my hair….its short….they keep shaving it…..but I can feel the marks where they sliced into my head and I want to tear it open and stop my brain from itching like this.

I don't sleep…I never seem to sleep….but when the lights go off I lay on the floor and close my eyes and try to block out the sounds of other people shouting in the darkness…….

……………….so here I am …..and my eyes are shut…….and I think………I see someone………..and it makes my heart skip a beat and it makes my brow sweaty….and it makes me slide my hands down the front of my body and press my hands against myself and sigh. I know this person and I don't know why.

I feel something trickling out of my nose and licking at it I realise it is blood…..and my head starts to thump and my heart is pounding and I squeeze my eyes shut real hard and I want to scream….I want to get up and …………………

I remember a name.

Spencer.

I remembered something….and so I tip my head back and let the blood run back down the back of my throat…..Agent Reid….Dr Reid…..Spencer…..my fuck partner

So when they unlock the door in the morning to check on me….I am standing at the door waiting….and I have blood all over me from my nose bleed….I see the look of alarm on their faces…..and I see them step back and pull out guns….

"I had a fucking nose bleed." I tell them.

And they ignore me.

"I need you to contact someone….you said I could."

And they nod

"I need to contact Agent Reid. He's a fed."

And they nod and prod me back into my room and slam the door shut on me.

I move back to the door and wait….I can be persistent when I need to be and my head hurt like hell and my nose wont stop bleeding…and……

……………you know what?...they removed my fingernails but they seem to be growing back and my skin is crawling all over like I am covered in bugs….and I stand and wait… need to know what happened to Spencer…..What happened…I know……I know something happened.

……………………………the door opens….

"Move back…." And they are pointing weapons at me….and looking at the blood. "What have you done to your face?"

"Nose bleed…and I my head ……my head hurts…….Did you find out…..did you ask about Agent Reid?"

and I get back

"Not yet."

And I give them a look which causes them to throw the food into the room and back off quickly….

"Fuckers!" I shout at them…and I wipe the blood off my face and kick the food around my room….my cell…..a fucking prison cell…….

So I move back to the door and wait for them and as the door opens…. "Agent Reid? I need to see him."

"Shut up and move back."

Is my reply and a whole day must have gone by because they put a cup of water on the floor and slide a plate of food in.

"I don't want the fucking food! I want to know where Spencer is!"

but the door is slammed in my face as I move forward…and this food is kicked across the room too – then I stand at the door….

"Dr Reid." I am saying as it opens. "I need to see him."

And I get a reply of…

"Move back."

So I say….. "I need to see Agent Reid."

And he says…. "Sorry….you can't."

But I don't know why he is sorry…. "Why the fuck not?" And I am not moving back.

"Because he is dead."

And the lights are turned out and I am standing in the dark.

All night…..All night there are cries of "Shut up!"

And all night I can hear someone howling in pain.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13 Reject

Chapter 13

Reject

**A/N: Small SLASH alert.**

* * *

I could lay here and mope and smoke his stinking smokes and cry until I go blue in the face but it isn't going to give me back what I need…and what I need now is some comfort from all of this. Something to let me know I still exist.

By early evening I have had a shower and my hair is damp…but that's ok.

In jeans and a short sleeved white shirt I decide to go out. I take with me just enough money to pay for what I need and leave my empty apartment and call a cab.

As I reach my destination I wonder if I should – if I can – change my mind…but for me this is how it started…so this is what I need to do.

Now I am standing on the sidewalk in front of Derek's place in the rain and thinking it's not too late to walk away….but I don't really want to do that and so I push wet hair off my face and walk up the short path to Morgan's front door.

My finger is pressing his door buzzer before I can change my mind and just walk away but I have to do this. I need to….I want to…

I can see a shadow the other side of the glass on the door and I can imagine he is looking through the security spy hole to see who is there. I hear the locks going back and the door is opening.

"Reid."

Is all he says…and I cross my arms tightly across my chest and I blink at him through my glasses.. "May I come in?" I ask, and he steps out of the way and lets me into his small house out of the rain.

He closes the door…and I stand in his small hallway waiting….and looking….he is in tight white cotton boxers and a white vest. I can see every muscle in his body…and I mean every muscle…and I swallow and watch him.

"I wasn't expecting guests." He says seeing I am looking at his apparel.

I just nod back at him and wonder how I am going to ask this of someone I had always admired so much and then hated so much.

"I've been thinking." And he is walking away from me and so I follow him to his kitchen.

"Well tell me something I wouldn't guess."

He didn't sound happy.

"Am I disturbing you?" I ask him.

He reaches the kitchen counter and takes two mugs down off the mug tree on the work surface.

"I don't want coffee." And I seem to be standing directly behind him. I move a hand out and place it on his upper arm. "Derek." I am nervous about this….but I am doing the right thing… know….I think I know….

He turns and I can feel him against me…and I close my eyes and place a hand on his chest.

"What in gods name are you doing?" And he pushes me back out of the way. So I take a couple of steps back and just look at him. I swallow and lick my lips and take a step back in again…this time moving fast so I can put one hand on his deeply muscled shoulder and the other on the side of his face. I kiss him…I run my tongue over his lips but that is as far as I get before he is pushing me away again.

"Reid….have you been drinking?"

"No." I take that as he is happy as long as I'm not drunk…and move in again…One hand this time on his hip…and the other on his shoulder holding him to me…and I start to kiss the side of his neck and dig my fingers into his dark skin…..and I remember the locker room and suddenly I need him so much that I don't think I am going to have time to let him be gentle with me again….

The push back….the shove with his hands and the slap across the face…that is my reply. That is what I get back.

"Now you are disturbing me. I think you need to leave."

But I don't want to…I can afford to be rejected again…I wont let it happen….so this time I grab his hand and press it against me and this results in a sharp punch to my mouth. I flail back and hit the wall behind me. I don't understand…after what he did….

……….I put my hand to my mouth and side down the wall until I am sitting and I just stare at him……….

"Did you drive here?" he is asking me.

And I shake my head.

"I'll call you a cab…go home Spencer – just go home."

"I thought……………."

"Well you thought wrong buddy….that was a one off….just to see if you liked it….and obviously you did. I thought about it….believe me, I thought about it….Now you need to get out."

I can taste blood where he split my lip and he is shaking his right hand and picking up the phone with his left. I just sit and watch him…because I thought I knew what as going on…and suddenly I am thrown back again and I feel totally confused and lost.

"Cab will be here in five….Wait outside." But I just sit on his kitchen floor and look at him walking over to me. I feel his hand taking hold of mine. "I mean it Reid. You are not well….go home." And he is pulling me to my feet.

"Morgan………"

I want to say something but he cuts me off and drags me towards his front door. "Just stay quiet Reid….don't say anything you might be regretting."

And suddenly I am standing alone outside in the rain again….and I'm not completely sure what happened. Apart from being turned down by the man who in my eyes started this whole mess in the first place. When the cab pulls up I slide into the back…with my white shirt soaked and my shoes squelching and my glasses steaming up….so I take my glasses off and put them in my breast pocket and give the cab driver an address….but it's not my apartment.

-o-o-o-

They took my specs away….and I haven't been for a shower in a couple of days….I just get food passed through a small door in the bottom of my door….and I know something happened…but I don't remember what it was now.

I sit on the floor and try to remember what it was…but it's gone again….I know it was there…I know it was….I can feel that for a short while there was something in my head….and suddenly as quickly as it was there it's gone again.

On day three they open the door for me and I blink at the sudden bright light.

"Stand up." I am ordered….and I rub at my eyes and get up….maybe I will get a shower today…I am beginning to smell….but somehow…for some reason…I don't mind the smell too much…I wipe a crust of blood off my nose and stand up and watch them carefully.

They put cuffs on my wrists and feet and a chain to join them and tell me to walk….and I do…but it's not easy…the chain between my feet is a bit to short….and I am slightly bent over because the chain between my feet and ankles is a bit too short too…They have weapons trained on me and I am pushed forward.

I don't think they are taking me for a shower.

It's very quiet out here today…It seems that there has been a lock down for some reason…everyone except me is locked in their cages. I have to walk down a metal staircase and along a passage way and they are watching me carefully and I am confused. It seems like I have done something but I cant remember what it is.

They prod me through a doorway into a big white room with a bed in the middle.

"Get up on there and lay down." So I walk over to it, but I don't know how I am going to get up there with all this shit on me….so I turn to them….

"I can't."

…………………do you think that was threatening?

……..did that make it look like I was about to attack someone? Well they obviously thought so.

The power from the taser shoots through me and knocks me to the floor….

"Get the hell up on the bed scum."

But I don't think my legs are going to let me stand up.

"I can't…you stupid motherfuckers!"

And I close my eyes….and when they are open again I am laying on the bed and my arms are strapped at my sides and my legs are held down….and there is something around my head stopping me from moving it.

"Do you remember what was said if you didn't behave?"

and I let my eyes look at the voice… "I remember shit….remind me."

"That if you didn't behave I would schedule more surgery for you."

"I don't remember."

"Well in a way that is good…it means that it partly worked. You need to understand something before we carry on here…Frankie….you haven't been reported missing…you don't even know who you are…and we definitely don't have a clue…except you are Frankie…which all we need really. Frankie….I am going to help you….I would like some gratitude back one day. Although this is said to be barbaric…nothing else has worked on you. You metabolise your medication….you seem to recover quickly from the ECT…and it really doesn't have the desired effect and so I am going back…way back to the times before we had ECT and antipsychotic drugs…a long way back…and I really hope it doesn't kill you Frankie…I want you out of our prison…I want rid of you….but I don't want you dead…I understand that you are ill…I know you can't help it…but I am going to give you a bilateral lobotomy anyway."

"Fuck you." I say back… "You don't give a flying shit about me…you just want to open up my skull and poke around….well fuck you arsehole…I don't give you my sodding permission this time."

I hear him cough.

"Unfortunately for you Frankie….you gave your consent once…and it is still binding…..Someone knock him out…I don't want him awake for this."

-o-o-o-

I can't decide if I want to go to the bar or to the club…so I get the cabby to drop me off somewhere between the two of them….and now I am regretting it…I will have to walk to one now…and my leg hurts and my chest hurts and tonight is just going to be one disaster followed by another.

It is the club I finally head for though. I can lose myself easier there and so this is where I find myself heading for….Again I miss the hand I usually have in mine….or the arm around my waist…and I miss the shoulder to put my arm around and the smell…that special smell he carries with his everywhere he goes. A few people knock into me as I walk…this just wouldn't have happened with Floyd here with me.

The club is throbbing as always and I get my drink at the bar and stand and take in the scene….and this isn't what I wanted. This isn't me…What the hell am I doing here? I drink back my shot and walk off again towards the door….

"Hey." A hand grabs my arm and I turn to look at who it is….not someone I know so I pull my arm away from them…. "You look stressed." And he leans in and says something in my ear. I listen…and I feel the hot breath on my ear and still I don't want this.

"No…no thank you." And I try to walk away. But a voice in my other ear and another hand on my arm and more whispered promises…and I know…I really know that this is stupid….very stupid….maybe terminally stupid….but these people want me…

…………..so I look from one to the other and think about what they said and I can feel their hands holding my arms and I don't know if I can leave anyway….so I go with them….I let them lead me to the backroom….but again…do I want this…or was it Floyd I was hoping to see…or Ardal….maybe….but not together….I wanted to see them alone….in pain….and hurting like I am….

I take in the people around us….still looking for Floyd…trying to sniff him out…. But there is nothing…..

"Haven't seen you here in a long time." Tall and dark says to me.

"I've been unwell." I say back quickly…I don't like the talking…I don't want to communicate with these people.

"Figured you had a fight with Floyd." Short and blond says as he un-buttons my shirt….

"Er…." I say back…not sure that I want to answer.

"He's not been around though." Dark says into my ear…from behind me he is playing with my belt with his fingers…. "Figured you wouldn't be here without him."

I don't answer….I don't want to talk to them…..I want to feel them…I want to feel blonde's hands on my chest the way they are…and I want to feel Dark behind me tugging at my clothing and licking the side of my neck….I need the mouth working it's way down my chest towards what Dark has exposed with his experienced fingers and hands….

I need to feel the fingers on my back and slowly working down and touching…all the touching….

…………….my hand rests on the top of Blonde's head as he dips and kneels and pleasures me with hands and lips and tongue….and Dark behind me….behind me in a lot of ways…….and I hear the sound of foil…..

"No." I finally say something…. "No…." And Dark licks the side of my ear….and waves something in my face…. " You like to take risks?" So I shake my head…. And move a hand from Blonde and take the condom from Dark and drop it to the floor….. "Just – just. – carry on." And a tongue runs over the back of my neck and fingers work on me… "Whatever you want…you don't know how long I have wanted to do this for…you don't know how many times I have stood watching you and Floyd…."

I let out a small sound of delight…but the talking carries on…and I wish he would shut up…. "I thought it was Floyd I wanted…"

Pushing into me I yelp out as the two men synchronize their game.

"But - it – was – you."

"Oh god…." But although this is good….although this is probably the best three way a man could have…it didn't come close to what Floyd could do with just a glance…a finger on my face…a tongue on my neck….

And I push back and demand more…and I don't care…right now I don't care if Derek has spies watching me….I don't care if I get some nasty disease…and I am sure I will…I really don't care now…because I am floating…and every nerve ending in my body is exploding….and if the end of the world suddenly happened, I don't think I would notice.

They back off and drop something on the floor next to me.

Quickly I pull my clothing back around me and do up my belt and then crouch down to see what they dropped…

Another condom…this time with money….My hands are shaking as I pull the two ten dollar bills from the thing. "They paid me?" and I stand looking at the money… "twenty dollars?" and now I feel as though everyone is watching me….and with the money held in my hand I walk from the dark musty confines of the room….

"Whore." Someone mutters as I go by them…..

The money falls from between my fingers and my vision becomes even more blurred than it already is as I make my way out across the dance floor and towards the way out.

-o-o-o-

I am meant to be counselling this man….but he won't look at me…

"Frankie." I say to him…but he is looking at something a long way off. "Frankie can you hear me?"

Very slowly his face turns to look at me and I can see something which used to be a good looking guy…I have seen the files…the photos….I have seen what he did…I have seen photos of that too….I know what this person used to be….but that is gone now…and my job is to rebuild him and make him a useful citizen….but with all the surgery they did I don't think that is going to happen.

He is deathly pale and his head is shaved in places with dressings covering whatever it was they did to him…he has been scratching at his skin and biting himself.

"How are you feeling today Frankie?"

and he blinks at me and licks his lips…and I can see sweat breaking out on his brow.

"I need your help."

I wasn't expecting him to talk to me….and I wasn't expecting a British accent….I put a hand out and rest it on his.

"That is why I am here…to help you." And I smile at him… "Shall we start by you telling me everything you can remember?"

And he moves his hand so he is holding my hand. "I need to get out of here…I need to say goodbye."

I wasn't expecting this. "Goodbye to who? The guards?"

"Spencer….I need to visit his grave and say goodbye….can you arrange that?"

"Who is Spencer?" I haven't seen that name in my notes…I will have to remember this and try to find out who he is….he looks at me and shakes his head.

………… "I don't remember…I just know I have to say goodbye."

* * *


	14. Chapter 14 Rain

Chapter 14

Rain

* * *

It's still raining and I don't want to go home yet. The thought of going back to that empty place was a bit too much to deal with for now.

So I just stand in the rain outside the club and people knock into me and make mumbled excuses and rush by trying not to get too wet. I should maybe move out of the way, but that feels like too much effort now…everything feels like too much.

It will be a long walk….but I don't want to get a cab again….and I've been told I should exercise my leg…and I should put a small amount of strain on my chest…to help it repair quicker and to remind it that it has a job to do…and so I turn and start to walk towards the outskirts of the city.

…………………….I can see…I know…really I do understand why people turn to drugs and drink…and to sex…and maybe even what drives a lot of people to violence and suicide and I don't want that person to be me….I don't want to become a statistic again, but I can feel the lure and I am hoping …really hoping that I am doing the right thing this time. I don't know if I could handle another rejection. Not that Dark and Blonde rejected me…far from it…they just used me and that is as bad. Even though I was using them in return….it makes me the scum filth Floyd always said I was….even as a child.

After an hour I am regretting my choice of action. My leg hurts as though the bullet has only just ripped its way through me…and my shoulder is throbbing…and every breath is a reminder of what happened….I push my soggy hair off my face and I can feel small lumps under my scalp where the glass was stuck…and my fingers move to where the bullet ripped at my face and cracked my cheek bone….but that is mostly healed now…It doesn't hurt…except it would seem – on cold wet evenings when I am too tired to carry on.

There is a park off to my right which offers me a short cut to my destination, and although normally I wouldn't go near the place in the evening, tonight I will…

I walk out into the road and jump back with a yelp as a car honks at me and rushes by in the rain through a puddle….It covers me…what small part of me not already soaked now is but there really is nothing I can do about it now…I can smell the dirt and oil from the road on my skin now…and the rain just keeps on coming down.

I make sure there are no more cars going to run me down and walk over the road to the park…it's a slow walk…my leg is sending shots of agony through my hip and back…and my chest feels like it might explode.

There is lighting in the park…only along the main walkway though…so this is the route I take…

………A bench……a small wooden bench…..I stand and just look at it for a while…and then sit. The relief is instantaneous. The weight no longer on my leg means that the other pains stop….I lean forward and take in deep measured breaths…trying to control the pain still tearing through me.

And for some strange reason I have the urge, the need, to smoke…to smell that smell which most non smokers hate, but I love…as long as it is smoke coming from the right person and for the right reasons. Now that my chest has stopped hurting so much I sit up and lean back slightly on the bench….I let the rain wash the dirt off my face and I can feel it trickling down my neck and through the thin cotton of my shirt and running in small rivers down my chest.

…………I need to sleep, or maybe just lay down and close my eyes….and think…think if I am doing the right thing. I thought I was with Derek…but look where that got me…I thought I was by going to the club…but that was wrong too….maybe this is also.

It doesn't really matter that it's raining…that it's cold…I can't get wetter than I already am…and so I slide sideways and pull my knees in tight and wrap my arms around me and close my eyes.

-o-o-o-

I've been sleeping on the couch. Not because I can't be bothered to go to bed… but because I just sit here until sleep overtakes me. I don't know how long I've been sleeping for….but the sudden noise makes me jump and I kick the coffee table in front of me calling out a slight curse. I sit and wait for the noise again…It may have just been in my sleep…I'm not sure…either way I will get up and get a coffee…I'm awake now…no point in trying to sleep again for a while now.

…………someone is definitely knocking on my door….so I get up and pull my housecoat around me and finger brush my hair and tip the dregs of cold coffee into my mouth…And the knocking again…A bit louder this time.

I walk quickly to the door and glance at the clock on the way through…It's nearly five in the morning. I check the door camera and at first I don't recognise who it is…I am about to walk away when he looks directly up at the camera.

"Spencer?"

He looks dreadful. He is obviously very wet and shivering and standing on my front porch. I can't ignore this and attempt to sleep even if I wanted to.

I pull back the bolts and switch off the alarm and open the door.

"Reid? What on earth?"

"May I come in?" Arms are wrapped tightly around him and there is watered down blood on his chin and around his nose.

I step back for him and pull the door wide open. "What happened to you?" I watch as he limps in and stands dripping in the hall. Quickly I lock up again and reset the alarm. "Spencer?"

"I needed to talk to you."

I nod and don't know what to say…there is so much I need to ask, and need to say to him and now he is here and I don't know if I can.

"Do you want a warm shower? Some dry clothes?" And he nods.

"That will be good. Thank you." But he doesn't move.

"You are bleeding." And I want so desperately to move my hand over and wipe it from his face…to touch him…to have contact with him…but I can't. I mustn't.

"Oh…sorry." And he wipes at his face with his shaking fingers.

I can see the pinkness of his skin and the way his nipples are pressing against the fabric of his almost transparent shirt….I can see how something has run down the front of it only to get washed away in the rain…He's been bleeding a lot.

And that worries me.

Even though I know it is alright…Spencer's blood worries me.

"I'll get you some sweat pants and tshirt….you know where the shower is."

And he nods and stays still.

Quickly I grab some navy sweatpants and a red tshirt from the 'needs to be ironed' pile and walk back to him….he is still standing where I left him.

"Reid. Do you need me to help you?" And very slowly he turns his face to look at me.

"Whatever it was…whatever it – it was…I'm s sorry." His voice isn't much more of a whisper, but I don't know what it is he is apologising for. Too much has happened…Too much has gone on for me to guess which one of the things he thinks is his fault. I put a cautious hand out and rest it on his shoulder.

"Come with me Spencer. You need to warm up." And he nods.

I walk behind him as he turns and walks to the bathroom and as he enters and slowly starts to un-do his buttons I suddenly don't know what to do, and I always know what to do…this is new…this isn't a situation I have been trained to cover. I watch as he peels his shirt off so slowly and I don't know if it is for my benefit of if he is in pain. As the shirt falls to the floor I see red marks across his back…Boot imprints on his skin…in places the flesh is grazed and has been bleeding…and again I want to reach out…I want to try to make this better for him…but by being here…just be being here in my own home I am making things worse. I shouldn't have let him in. I should have left him there…in the rain…and cold….I could never have done that.

I decide that instead of watching him slowly undress I will get the water ready for him…so I place the dry clothes on a shelf and turn on the shower. "There is soap and shampoo." And I turn around to see him sitting on the floor trying to remove his cords. I can see on his chest the mark left from the spike which had sliced into him…and it makes me feel sick thinking back to that day down in that hole…thinking how he was dying…

………………….but he is here and something has happened. "Who hit you?" And his hand goes to his face.

"I'm fine Hotch…just cold."

And he is lying…I can tell…he may be a genius but small lies like that are too obvious with him…I let it go…I want him to stop shaking…I want that wheezing sound his chest is making to stop…I want ….I want to touch those marks on his body and for him to confide in me.

Finally he kicks off his pants and sits on the floor holding them close to him…I am trying so hard not to look at him…he looks so frail and vulnerable. I walk by him and reach out to brush my hand over the top of his head, but pull back just in time…I don't want to initiate anything…I need to talk to him first. I need to say what I need to say to him…and ask what I need to ask.

"I'll be in the kitchen making fresh coffee. Take your time." And I close the door behind me putting up that barrier which probably should have always been there and with a deep breath I walk to my kitchen.

I don't need to make fresh coffee…but I tip away what is left and make more anyway. It give my mind and hands something to do….occupy them – take my mind off what is in by bathroom….and the temptation to walk back in…and watch…Just watch…That is all I want to do….I sit on the high stool at my kitchen counter and rest my head on the work surface. Why does life have to be so damned complicated. If Haley had stuck around it would be so much easier….not that Spencer would have come here in the early hours soaking wet and bleeding if Haley had been here.

I rest and listen to the coffee machine and take in the homely aroma and think back on times when life seemed 'easy'.

"Hotch."

I sit up and look over at him…part of me was hoping for the towel to be around his waist and part of me was dreading it. He is dressed though. "Coffee?" I ask indicating the machine.

"Thank you." And he is just standing in the door way looking at me.

So I pour him a drink and add a lot of sugar and stir it with vigour and when I look back he has gone. My stomach does a turn of panic. Where the hell is he?

………………It's OK…he is in the lounge …..just standing….doing nothing….his hands by his side and he is looking at the photo's of Jack on the wall.

"Your coffee." I hold it out to him and notice my hands are shaking and I think it's because I have so much to ask this person and I don't know where to start. I don't want to cause more damage. I put it down on the table. "Reid – I'm glad you came by." Though I'm not. "The timing is a bit odd though. Sit. Drink the coffee and tell me what's wrong." I need to keep total control here.

I watch him sit down in big over stuffed chair and he crosses his legs and then wraps his arms around him and just looks at me.

"Did you want to talk?" I try again…and he shakes his head.

"I had a feeling you needed to talk to me." His voice is croaky and tired.

Great…he knows something is wrong.

"Reid…back…back when the UnSub had you in the pit." Reid nods at me. "He said some things which I still need to confirm." I watch him pick up his coffee and blow on the surface….he's stopped looking at me. "We had to go to your apartment. Prentiss and I…and well…Are you…have you been co habiting with another man?" And I know he has…The test results back from the lab confirmed that much. I watch him carefully and see his fingers tighten around the mug.

"I I c cant see that is you business." He talks into his drink but he is shaking worse than when he arrived.

"The gay community is known to be promiscuous Spencer. I need to know that you are healthy." I said the wrong thing….The way he suddenly stood up and dropped his mug to the floor told me that….the way his mouth opened to say something then snapped shut then opened again.

"I came her because I thought…I thought you would understand." He is walking away.

"I didn't say I didn't understand Reid. I want you to confide in me."

He doesn't even turn around. "NO! No you want to know if I go around behaving irresponsibly. You want to know how many partners I've had."

His hand is reaching for the door. "The UnSub thought you had given him something Spencer." And his hand freezes.

"I'm clean." He whispers it. "I didn't infect him."

I nod and move closer. "I know, but I need you to stay safe Spencer."

…………….I turn off the alarm and watch him pull the door open. "Then find Floyd Flanders for me." And he has gone…barefoot back out into the rain…and I want to call him back…but I know I shouldn't so I just close the door on him and turn off the light and pick the blue vase up off the hall table and throw it at the wall.

-o-o-o-

I'm allowed fresh air today. They take me down to the exercise yard and I stand in the rain and look up at the sky. No one else is here…the others are always somewhere else…they keep me away from them…I don't know why.

Morris is with me. Morris is with me a lot now…he talks to me and tries to give me something…some kind of reason…but he won't answer my questions…but today I look up at the sky and wonder if Spencer is doing the same.

"M Morris…" I turn to look at him and he smiles back…and that smile is forced sometimes and sometimes natural…today it just looks wet. "D did you find out about Spencer?" And he is shaking his head.

"You need to give me more to go on Frankie…there is no record of a Spencer."

So I sigh and nod and turn around again….this cool early evening air is wonderful. I love the feeling of the rain on my face. "Do you have a sm smoke?" And fuck me if I haven't started this stupid damned stutter thing….

Morris passes me a smoke and he has a box of matches. He lights one and holds it to the end of the cigarette as I inhale it deeply…and images flash in my mind and I can see him…tall and skinny and beautiful…and naked….and I can taste something sweet in my mouth…and I want him suddenly so badly that I start to shake….and my nose starts to bleed. I keep smoking with my back to Morris and try to think…Spencer….who the hell were you? Did I kill you? Is that why I'm here.

"Did I kill him? Did I kill Spencer?" And I think I said it aloud.

"The only people we know about have been in law enforcement or security."

……………………and I see his standing there in funny cords and a shirt which is too big for him…and a gun at his belt and a Fed ID……… "I think I killed him." I mutter…and Morris hands me a fresh Smoke….

"Why do you think that Frankie?" And he's not smiling now.

"Because he was a Fed."

And I think back…I try so hard to think back and wonder about this Spencer person…I was screwing a Federal Agent? That seems wrong…that seems so damned wrong…but I know…when I close my eyes that the person I can see…and smell and almost feel…was that love? A kinship at least…more than that…a bonding…

………………no more than that too……………

and I drop the butt to the ground… "So you can find out where the Fed called Spencer is buried…if you can…will you take me to him?"

because I have a plan…and that plan is to get out of here….and to do that I have to instil some trust in them….and I cant do that if I am doing what I want to do.

I can smell Morris from here…I can smell the blood under his skin…I can hear his heart thumping in his chest and I want to rip him open and devour his life force then fuck his corpse… but for now…just for now…I will behave.

…………..as I walk back out of the rain and into the building…the others are around….and they stare at me like I am a monster and I really want to kill them all…I want to taste their blood in my mouth and feel it running over my skin….I want to rip the flesh off their backs and smoke it slowly and make things out of it….dolls…I want to make dolls…..

"Morris."

He looks at me as I enter my cell. "Yes Frankie." He sounds tired.

"If I can't see his grave…if I can't do that…can you at least let me go to a church…I mean a real one…not the chapel here." I have a plan…so vile and wondrous it is making me feel faint…so I sit down quickly on my bed with the paper sheets.

"I will see what I can do."

And the door is closed and locked and I really wanted to ask him to blow me… but I relieve myself…while I lay back and plot my escape.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15 Confession

Chapter 15

Confession

**A/N: I was listening to Tom Waits: Rains On Me when I wrote this chapter.**

* * *

One of those days you just want to get over and get home.

Don't get me wrong…I love my job, but there was an atmosphere about the place today and I couldn't figure out what it was about. Morgan was not his normal chatty bubbly self and spent a lot of his day locked in his own world of files and forms.

Hotch kept his office door locked for the entire day and requested that we go via Dave if we wanted anything. Dave was his normal self though I could see that he was concerned too. He could see the strain in the office too.

I spent my day drinking far too much coffee and filling in far too few forms…and just not getting enough work done. I wondered in my own bitter and somewhat selfish way when the hell Reid was coming back to work…Sure his let hurt and his chest and shoulder gave him trouble but you don't really need them to fill in all this damned paperwork.

Slamming my pen down on the table I've had enough. I have to get out of this placed.

A quick tap on Rossi's door and I'm walking in without waiting for an answer….he just looks up at me and nods… "Go home Emily." He knew what I was going to ask before I even opened my mouth. I don't reply to him…I just nod and walk out again.

There is going to be a storm…and it sort of comforts me to know. It is Saturday tomorrow and I intend spending the weekend snuggled up with a book or watching a dvd and eating warmed up take out. I drive to the small store just down the road from me and pick up supplies for the next few days. If I need more I will get it delivered. Nothing is going to get me out of my little comfy hide away this weekend.

………..I pull up the car and park and grab my groceries from the passenger seat and start to walk up the small path to my front door. The thunder has started in the distance and the rain is pelting down like the gods just emptied a bucket of water over me. I can feel the brown bags getting soggy in my hands….Quickly I am on my small porch. Well not mine particularly….the one which leads to the interior of the complex I have my apartment in…and I am about to slip my card through the security thing when I see movement.

The bags are dropped to the floor and my gun is out of the holster as I spin around to see what it is….

'_Jumpy Emily Jumpy…calm down.'_

Someone is curled up in the small space between the big potted plant thing and the wall.

"Get out." I order…the last thing I want is damned tramps and no goods hanging around outside my front door. But when the person rolls over and looks up at me I just sigh and put the gun back in its housing. "What the hell?"

"Prentiss."

"What on earth are you doing here?" I look at this mess with Reid's face and wonder how long he has been there….as he moves and the lightning lights up the sky I can see the blueness of his skin and how wet he is. "I suppose you want to come in?"

but he shakes his head. "Let me help you." And white shaking hands are touching my food.

"Leave it." And I feel snappy and really this is unfair. He looks ill. He looks like he is on death's door but I can see dried blood around his nose and his lip is split and there is something about it which makes me want to hurt him.

"Emily."

He is pulling himself to his knees now…He has on slightly too big for him sweatpants and a baggy Tshirt and his hands…those long pale fingers are still reaching for my things.

"Stop! Don't touch my things." And I shouldn't have said that. It was cruel of me. It's not his fault…but yet my mind will only let me believe it is.

I watch his hand snap back this time and his eyes…way to big for his face are staring at me.

"I'm sorry Emily." And now his is getting to his feet and I can see he has no shoes on.

I grab my things and pick them all up again quickly and ignore him.

"Emily."

And he sounds so damned sad…but it just makes me want to scream. What damned right has he to feel sad?

"I don't know what you are apologising for Reid. That your actions caused my friends to be shot? That you came in to work hung over? That you and you life style which you kept from us caused me to be raped? That you and you promiscuous dirty ways almost killed me? What part are you sorry about?" And my card is sliding through the lock.

"All of it I suppose."

I watch him push his wet hair off his face and my eyes take in the weird form in front of me.

"Well maybe if it was you who had been raped by some diseased mad man you would understand why I am finding your 'sorry' just a bit hard to take right now."

But he doesn't answer. He turns and starts to walk away.

"You don't want to come in then and carry on your sob story?"

He doesn't answer still but walks off into the night…and the sky lights up his back as he limps away with his arms wrapped around him. I was too harsh on him. I know I was…but he had to know how I was feeling.

NO……that's not it……I had to take it out on someone. I had to blame someone…and as the UnSub is unavailable Reid was next in line.

I watch until he is out of sight and then turn and enter the warmth of the building. It's cold out tonight….its going to get colder….I should offer him a lift home.

Pressing the button for the elevator now…so it's too late. He's a big boy….let him find his own way home.

Why am I crying?

Why do I feel like such a bitch?

It wasn't his fault. Not like he went out and planned it. He would never have done this on purpose….but the thought that he kept his life from us…how I feel such an important part of his life from us…that is something I don't understand.

I enter my apartment and drop the groceries on the kitchen counter.

Have I actually told anyone about my personal life? Is it any different? Are we allowed secrets?

I stand at my big window and look out over the twinkling city lights and the rain hammering down and the thunder crashing and the lightning flashing….and I think…I hope I did the right thing.

-o-o-o-

I ask Morris again the next day.

"I really need to go to church…c c can you s sort that? Did you – did you find out who the f fed is?"

He is sitting on my bed and I am sitting on the floor and I know yesterday I knew something else too….but today I have forgotten again.

"You will need to make a personal request to the governor Frankie…I can't make decisions like that. They are still keeping you segregated from the other prisoners…I think being permitted to leave will not be a request which will be granted. I can try though. I will see if he will talk to you."

I pull my knees up tight and wrap my arms around my legs. "It's kinda important…I need to do it before I forget."

And he nods at me. "The point of all this therapy you are having is so that you do forget. We don't want you remembering."

I sniff and wipe at my nose. "Tell you something Morris. I feel like there is part of me missing. Not my bits of brain. I know they are gone…but it feels like – I dunno – like part of my soul has gone too." I want - need Morris to feel sorry for me. I take a deep breath and sigh and look up at him. "And this stuff I've forgotten…you know I don't need to remember that shit…I do need to say goodbye…so I feel whole again…does that make sense?"

He nods again…

"You can say goodbye via the prison chapel. The chaplain will me more than happy to let you do that."

"No…no it wont work…it's fucking shit down there." Truth is the place actually makes me feel very ill, but I need to be off the prison premises for this plan to work. "I need to go to a proper Catholic church Morris." And the lies flow off my tongue like sweet water. "When I was a child in Italy…I was born in Italy…when I was a child I was an alter boy." I smile at him. "I can remember his crap." I lie. "Well…as we moved…and ended up in England I spent a lot of time studying my faith. I considered at one point – but not for long – if I wanted to join the priesthood….but it's when I think things started to get fucked up for me." I carried on watching Morris carefully. "I need that atmosphere…you understand that don't you? I need to go to confession before it's too late. I don't want to die and burn in hell….Morris…I am dying aren't I?"

And I wipe away the tears I have squeezed out with the heel of my hands and then wrap them around my legs again.

Morris shakes his head. "I have no idea what your long term medical prognosis is Frankie…I will talk to the boss. Is there anything else you need to discuss with me?"

And so now I am standing in an office but I don't think my chances are going to be too high. They've put cuffs on my hands which are in front of me…and shackles around my ankles…I can only take small steps. I decide to keep up the 'feel sorry for Frankie' routine and just stand looking at the yellow line on the floor I've been told not to cross. I want go grind my teeth and…and I want to bite at flesh…but

I need to behave…It's a game…just a sodding game…I can do that…I have to.

"What did you want to talk to me about." His voice is hard. He's not going to be a push over. I sigh…I squeeze out of me all I have….and I mumble. "I need to go to confession."

And the fucker laughs at me.

"Nice one Frankie. To confess what exactly?"

He is a bastard…and one day I will kill him…but for now I keep looking at the floor and I keep my hands relaxed and I let my body do what comes naturally to it…it would seem.

"I killed people sir. I need to rid it off my soul."

"You don't have one. Get out…you are wasting my time."

So I bite on my bottom lip….I need more time…I need to intoxicate his mind…

"That's as maybe sir, but I still need to return to my roots and confess before it's too late."

"Your roots? You are by your own words…a gypsy…you have no roots Frankie. Someone get this thing out of my sight."

I feel the hands on my ready to pull be back out of the room. "Sir…you will deny a dying man his last wish?"

And now I look at him…and I see the frown on his face and he wipes his brow where I can see bead of sweat appearing. "You will be under armed escort. You will be manacled. You will be shot dead if you try anything."

I nod at him. "I just need a Catholic priest to hear my confession. I need to do this. I will never ask you for anything else."

"No Frankie you won't. Get him out of here. I will arrange your last confession Frankie…but fuck with me and you are dead….you do understand that don't you."

I nod…a slight nod…a sad pathetic nod…and I let them lead me out of the room. Job done…step one complete….I can almost smell the fresh mown grass. There are people around again and Morris he says quietly to me.

"Ignore them. Don't let yourself down when you are so close."

And I want to kill the bastards shouting out at me…accusing me…of things I did…but I don't have to let them know I know…I'm meant to not know…there is just that one thing which is evading my memory constantly and this is Spencer.

So I keep my head down…I'm drooling…and so I shake my head and spray those getting too close…and then I sneeze and send snot and blood clots over the room…and some slides down the wall and it is very satisfying…so I fold up onto the floor and let them carry me…HA! Stupid mothers…stupid people.

……….but I don't know if I could have walked anyway…I am knackered. I just want to lay down and – and – well that's private….but I'll tell you anyway…I am going to give myself the best hand job in weeks…unless….

Morris and the guys drop me onto my bed and the others leave.

"You going to be OK Frankie?"

He really does want to do what is best for me…the poor sod.

"A blow job would be real good right now." And he just raises and eyebrow and shakes his head.

"Sorry Frankie. Please – make life easier for yourself and keep your sexual desires under control…or at least to yourself, or you wont be getting that last visit."

I turn and look at him and frown. "So I am dying?"

"We all do eventually. Just try to behave…I really do want this to work for you."

And my hands are undoing my buttons. "Just one Morris. A parting gift." But he is gone and the door is closed.

You know what?

If I had it in me to feel anything other than this over powering need to screw…I think I might like Morris.

-o-o-o-

And so what's left?

I really should have known better from Emily. I really shouldn't have expected more.

The walk back to the park is a long one, and by the time I get there I am mentally and physically exhausted. I am having to hold onto my sweatpants with one hand because they are so waterlogged they would just slide down and be at my ankles.

I find the park bench I was on earlier…yesterday? I have lost track of the time. I don't think there will be anyone around tonight. It is so cold and the wind is howling and the rain is falling so hard that I am sure they will all be hiding behind closed doors tonight. This is good. It gives me the chance to just lay here and be alone. No one to bother me.

I curl up as I did before…

Last time I was awoken by hands pulling at me and feet kicking at me…. 'Not your turf gutter boy.' They had shouted as I crawled away from them and headed for Hotch's place. That seemed a life time ago now.

I can see the flashes through my closed eyes…and the rain on my face is refreshing and cold. I am shivering and my teeth are chattering.

Really…I am hoping I will fall asleep here and be found by a beat cop in the morning…cold and very dead.

There just doesn't seem to be a point now. Everyone I ever loved is gone. Even those I just tolerated have turned their back on me and this is it? Mum won't miss me. Gideon….he's long gone….everyone…even Floyd…someone I thought would never leave me…even he's gone.

And that worries me. That out of everything worries me the most.

I wonder if Hotch tried to find him for me. I wonder if anyone is looking for me.

And I close my eyes and slide into a dark warm place where Floyd is there…and Aaron is watching me…and Morgan is my big bro…and non of this has happened.

* * *


	16. Chapter 16 Comfort

Chapter 16

Comfort

* * *

I don't know where I am.

But it's not where I lay my head down last night….

I run my hands quickly over myself and I seem to be in an all in one kit of some kind. When I open my eyes I see I am in a small cell. Wonderful. With a sigh I push myself up so I can sit and get a better look at my surroundings. I lick my lips and see on the side there is a bottle of Mountain Dew and a sandwich. I don't know how long it's been there but the corners are starting to curl. The room is longer than it is wide and three walls are pale green…the forth is bars.

I sit and put my head against the wall. Can it get any better? I have no memory of what happened after I got to the park. It's a blank. I am rubbing vigorously at my nose when someone appears.

"Dr Reid…nice to have you back with us."

He knows who I am.

I just look over at the guy at the door and sigh.

"Feeling like shit I would think….you were in a bad way. Hotchner is on his way."

"Pardon? Hotchner? Why?"

He opened the door which hadn't been locked and came in. Sitting down next to me he gave me a curious glance. "You don't remember what happened?"

So I frown and scratch at my neck and shake my head. "You are going to have to fill me in."

"You were picked up walking down the street. Sort of out of it."

Now I am confused. "Walking down the street?"

"If it can be called that. We had to do bloods. Sorry about that…your arm might be a bit sore."

I rub at my nose again which is incredibly itchy and look at him. "I really don't understand."

"Then that's a shame….maybe it will come back to you? I dunno." And he stands up again. "You asked us to call Agent Hotchner during one of your lucid moments."

I shake my head and I can feel my brain sliding around inside my skull. "How long have I been here?"

"The hospital had you for two days…we've had you here for one. It's Thursday."

My brain tried to count back…What had happened to the missing days? I look at the detective and blink. "I see. How long will Hotchner be?"

-o-o-o-

Yes I am mad at him.

Yes I have been shouting at him….and yes I could see how hurt he is…but this is something I would have expected from a child….not one of my team…not someone I should be able to trust my life with.

He is standing in my lounge just looking at the floor and I am slapping a bit of paper onto the table. "Why? What the hell do you think you are playing at?"

And he just shakes his head…and I want to put my hands on his shoulder and shake him.

"This is the end of your career…you realise that don't you? I can't hide this from Strauss…I don't want to hide this….this mess!"

I am pacing the room now…I want to shake him and hold him and bury my face in his neck and tell him all with be alright…but can't …I'm the boss…the big guy…the one in control…and it feels like my control is going.

"I think I'll go." Is his reply. He doesn't even look at the bit of paper…he scratches at his neck and rubs at his nose and now I am …I am holding him….by the top of the arms…and I might he holding a bit too tightly.

"Why…Reid…why? What is going on…just tell me what the hell is going on…I can help you."

He doesn't move away…or try to get my hands off his arms but he looks up at me and he has a slight nose bleed…and his eyes are huge and wet and he tells me…

"I came to you for help Hotch….I came here…and you – you accused me…accused me of being a whore." His voice was quick and the pitch high….I had hit a sore point…I had reached part of the problem.

I need to pull him to me. To wrap my arms around him and hold him close but I don't…I slide my hands off his arms and I put a hand under his chin. "I didn't accuse you Spencer. I just asked why."

And now he steps back and pushes my hand away.

"Because – because that is what it was like…that was my life how I lived it…and I was putting no one at risk." And he steps back again. "Did you do look for Floyd for me?" He is swaying slightly and so I step in and hold his arm.

"Sit down…just sit." And he lets me guide him to the chair. I see him glance that the papers laying on the table and I pick them up and move them. "Maybe later?" I say…I will talk to him about this later…but this Floyd business has to be addressed too.

I sit on the couch as Spencer sits down in the arm chair his legs crossed and his one arm folded the other wiping at his nose.

"You need a tissue?"

and he nods…so I pass the box over and he takes a few from it. As he squishes it to his nose I watch and then say. "Floyd Flanders…I got Garcia to see if she could find anything on him. I'm not sure why you are looking for him or why he can help." And I study that beautiful face carefully as he responds.

"I just need to know where he is." And he had the wad of paper to his nose and the other hand is on his knee and his fingers are digging into his leg through the sweatpants he had been given back before we left the precinct.

"Is he your dealer?" And his head jumps up and he stares at me.

"What do you think I am Hotch…first a whore and now a drug user? I thought we were past that. I thought you trusted me."

"This Flanders person has a record going back as far as when he was a child. Grand theft auto…mugging…robbing local liquor stores…supplying drugs…pimping…the list goes on…then about ten years ago it all stops and there has been nothing since."

"I see….and did you find him for me?"

And I watch him closely…none of this information seems to be of a great shock to him. "No…no I didn't…as I said…there is nothing now for ten years. It's as though he died. Are you sure you are looking for this person?"

"Hotch…I was living with him not so long ago…I know he's not been dead for ten years."

And it's such a horrible feeling in my stomach…I feel dizzy with it. This isn't the person I had always thought he was…I don't know who the hell this person is…but it hasn't changed the fact that I want to hold him and comfort him and try to take away the pain he is feeling.

"Emily called me. I think you scared her."

But he looks away from me

"You need to give her time Spencer." And he is looking at me again with questions on his face. "The man raped her. That's a big thing to deal with. I know." And suddenly Reid is on his feet again and the bloody tissue is falling to the floor and I can't take my eyes off that blood and I feel so guilty that I am feeling this way about him…but I do…and I am trying to understand. "She will come round…just be sensitive with her."

And he turns and he looks so angry…and I don't know what I've said to fire up this anger in him.

"And me? What about me? Where is the understanding and sensitivity when it comes to me? No where…I am just accused of of – of - stuff…and rejected…and I have to be understanding? Why? Why when all I get in return is accusations…and dirty looks."

"Spencer." I stand up…not quite knowing once again what is going on in his head. "You have to talk…we cant help you if you don't talk."

"I was raped too! Why do you think I'd been drinking? Where is my understanding?"

And he is crying…so I reach out and I put one hand on his shoulder and pull him close…and the other I wrap around his waist and rest on his back...and I stand and feel the sobbing pain pour out of his body.

-o-o-o-

The Church of the Sacred Heart…

I watch carefully. I have marked the guards…Two at the main doors and two come in the actual church with me.

I wasn't expecting this….it is making me feel ill…I shouldn't be here, but this was my best bet to get out of the prison…if only for a short while…that is all I need.

I am cuffed and shackled and again the chains are a bit too short to make this comfortable. I look up and scan the place quickly. It's a small old building…one which shouldn't cause me too many problems. Morris is holding my arm a bit tightly and I am getting that itch in my nose and the tightening in my brain…and if I don't do what I need to do soon I am going to fuck up and it will be over. I will never find out who the hell this Spencer bloke is…and I really want to do that.

The priest is introduced to me. Father Andrew – and he smiles a tight sad smile at me.

"Do you want to pray and prepare?"

So I shake my head. "Father…I know what I need to say…I just need to get it done."

And he nods at me and looks at Morris. "I will take it from here. We will be fine…wont we Frankie."

And I keep my head down…because if I look at him now it will be all over. I am drooling slightly and I think my nose is about to explode, so I don't look up and let him see my grin…because think I might…………

………………..SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF HIM!! ……………

I promised to behave…and for Morris I will. Father Andrew guides me to the place where I kneel…he closes the door behind me and then I see his outline through the mesh…It is during this time that I slide my hands and feet out of their bindings and push them to the side.

"Let's get on with this shall we?" he says…and I don't like his attitude so this comes easily to me.

"Father…I need to confess some pretty vile shit….I hope you're ready."

"I'm listening."

Crap I feel like I am going to vomit…the closeness of this 'holy' man makes me feel quite ill.

"I suck cock and I eat people."

And he doesn't react.

"I'm not sorry though…I'll do it again given the chance."

"Then why are you here…if not to confess?"

"To do this."

It's slow motion! I swear it is…and it's beautiful and I want to replay it but I can't….

I reach through the mesh which tears easily between my fingers and I put a hand on his head and on his shoulder and his neck is broken before he knew what was happening. I pull him close to the opening and rip into his neck with my teeth…they are all idiots…and they wont win…I've done it now…the first step of my recovery….my own little twelve step program which will probably not have that many steps. My heart is pounding in my chest…I now need the two guards to come over…Which they do…I don't have to wait long to see their shadows under the door.

I stand….you see they are expecting this shackled thing to be in here…not me…not Frankie…who isn't actually Frankie cos some of it is coming back to me. I stand still and I wait…they are listening…they will know no one is talking…and they will…..

And hallelujah – they are so fucking predictable…but I was banking on that rather….

…………….so as the door opens one of them gets a broken neck and the other gets the good old Frankie….I am trying to remember my name….but I rip out his throat with my fingers and then stand in the mess and look at Morris who is just standing staring at me.

"Unforgivable fuck up Morris." I say to him… "You will lose your job." And he just stands with his mouth open….I walk quickly to him…

and my hands are on his shoulders and I am pulling him close…I run my tongue over his lips and then move a hand down to the front of his trousers. "You should have had me when you had the chance…I'm sorry Morris…I sorta liked you." And I head butt him…and he goes floppy in my arms…and I want to fuck him….but I cant…I don't have time…I pick up the hand guns the guards had and take their belts and wrap them around me. I need to get out …I need to leave now…the others will be here soon…though this has all been done in silence…I don't have time to fuck about…literally. So I go towards the rear of the church and as I get to the altar I start to vomit….

Shit this place is going to kill me if I don't get out soon…

And I am gone…I am so gone you hardly see me move…

Now I need to hunt….

Now I need to restock.

Now I know I am Floyd.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17 A Little Drink

Chapter 17

A Little Drink

* * *

Drop and snatch.

Step one….after you have vomited your entire life out of your guts….

You need to find someone alone and suitably attired.

You need to walk up to that person and say. "Hey have you got a light?"

………….even if you don't have a smoke………..it doesn't matter cos you're not gonna have to time to smoke anyway.

If said mark has no light or ignores you….just walk on by…..but don't break into song like I just did…that's gonna get you fucking killed for sure…….so you walk on by and the as you pass you turn and snap the bastard's neck. It's quick and you don't want to get blood all over the new clothes. Strip the mark first…always….worry about yourself after…just get the shirt and jeans or whatever…hopefully you have been savvy and picked someone the same or bigger – by a small amount – than yourself…..you can even choose a female if you're small and she's tall…you know? Anyway…a quick stripping is what you need…

Don't! For fuck's sake don't bother with buttons…they don't bloody matter….be quick…rip the shirt off….hopefully it wont wreck it totally…but that's ok…It really is going to be ok…

Shit…well it will be if you can stop barfing everywhere for five seconds….

Never worry about foot ware…the chances that it will fit are so slim it's not worth it….just get the jeans or whatever off and grab your loot and …run….

Stop and lean on a wall and vomit…and then run some more….

When you've found somewhere deserted then…and only then strip and change.

So here I am…leaning on a wall …and I shouldn't have drunk holy fucking blood…what sort of an arsehole am I?

Where are my sodding brownie points for deleting the opposition?

I can hear sirens…I need to move…

The gun belts I tie back around me and the prison garb I throw in a bin and cover with shit and crap…and then I keep the shirt undone….which is ok as most of the buttons are missing and I walk casual like from this dark and gloomy place and out into a stream of people walking.

The bloke was called Chris Towner….and I have his wallet and his money…I don't want his ID…but I keep it all in the wallet for now…I have my prison boots on still but that's good…barefoot would have been more conspicuous.

Goodwill stores are fabulous! I don't know if you ever go to them…but if you want cheap and if you want disguise well fast then they are the places to go. The clothes are second hand so you don't look like you've just walked out of a high street store…you look normal.

There is one across the road…and so I finger brush my hair over my face and keeping my head down I walk quickly across the road…

I am drooling again….but at least my stomach has stopped complaining about the blood…I will have to replace that though…I will have to hunt…and very soon…I will keep control…I have to keep total control of this situation or I wont get what I need….and that is information…I need to regain what they took from me.

The door jingles on a small brass bell when I go in…and it has that musty smell of oldness about it.

I flick through clothes and find an old pair of Versace jeans…hey…they might even be mine…they are my size…they are more pricey than the other crap but I know they will look good… I will look shit hot in them.

I also find a black cotton shirt…sort of baggy and comfortable looking…so I pay for them and leave….

A motel…I have to find somewhere to just keep my head down and sleep…maybe not a motel…they will check them…they will check every fucking where…they will know I killed that guy in the alley way.

My plan is to go to the park. This is the place to pick up whores and junkies…and though I'd rather not feast off of that sort of low life scum sometimes you don't have options….

I can still hear the sounds of police sirens so I walk quickly but with my head up and my hair back off my face now…I don't want to look like I'm hiding something. I also need somewhere to get out of these nicked clothes and into something else so I head for a big store with public restrooms and my luck is in…it's so in that I want to dance a little jig of joy, but I don't.

I walk in you see…and place my new kit down on the side…and I fancy a slash or I am going piss myself…so I get ready and there next to me is another guy and he is looking at me…and I look back at him and before you know what's happened I am face against the wall and he is arse fucking the life out of me….and I know now that that blood I had earlier did have it's perks…

………………please….please don't misunderstand this situation….I could have ripped him apart or even offered to blow him…or him me…but he is giving me his hand too…so what's to complain about really…it makes my eyes water and funny little gasping sounds come out of my mouth and when was the last time I had any of this? I have no idea…but hell…this is so damned good that when we are both done I want to start over again…but he just smiles at me and turns and leaves….

………………..But he just smiles and TRIES to leave……..

Oh I know – I know….I was going to be good…I really was….but offer lion his gazelle and he won't turn it down…..

likewise…….

………………offer a murdering bastard with cannibalistic tendencies an easy kill…and well…………….

I stepped over him and locked the door and then took what I needed…his arse…his heart…his liver…..and I had me a picnic in SuperSaver's mens room. Never say I don't now how to enjoy life…and this might have saved some whore's life down in the park…if I ever find the park….

I wash off the blood in the basins….and then change my clothes to ones not blood soaked….you see…I should have been a boy scout….

Then I look for stuff to burn…but can find fuck all….so I just leave him there….and I exit, sticking an 'Out of Order' sign on the door to give me a bit longer to get away.

The jeans fit good too…..

So fully sated and now in need of a drink I head out and look for a bar to spend a few bucks in….

More sirens…..

They really are not looking for me very hard are they? I am leaving a trail a mile long behind me.

-o-o-o-

I can smell his shampoo and aftershave and it is the most comforting thing I think I have ever smelt…His arms holding me are in a way secondary to everything else. I just want to feel safe…

You have no idea what it is like to have always for as long as you can remember to have had a barrier there protecting you…even when things are bad…real bad…you know he is there watching over you….then it's gone.

He's been gone before…but yet not so far that I couldn't still feel him inside me….in my soul….part of me…and that part has suddenly disappeared and I don't know…really I don't know if I can cope.

"Hotch." And I pull back slowly from him…suddenly I feel overwhelmed and – and – I don't know what this feeling is…but I just want to curl up on his couch and cry, but he doesn't let go of me….he pulls me back and holds me until I stop shaking…and I don't know how long that is…all I can hear is his heart pounding in his chest and my blood rushing in my ears.

"I'm sorry." Is what I say in the end…empty words really…because I don't know what I did wrong.

He guides me to the couch and gently pushes me back to sit. "I'll get us something to drink…Whiskey?" and I nod…really anything would have done then….if he had offered me bleach I would have accepted it.

I would like to see what is on that paper he moved out of my way but for now I will leave it. I just need to feel like someone is willing to listen to me…if only for a little while…even if I won't be telling the whole story…and he will know I am keeping something back…I am fine role playing something…but lying to Hotch is different. I don't want to lie to him…want to tell him everything…and I know I can't.

The glass feels cool in my hand and Hotch sits next to me at a slight angle so he can see me better and talk to me. His hand reaches over and pushes some hair off my face and behind my ear.

"So tell me…Spencer…what's going on up there?" and his hand brushes against my head. "Someone assaulted you?"

I don't want to tell him…I can't tell him…who would believe me!? Who would possibly believe that the famous womanizer Derek Morgan would molest me in the locker room…They would be more likely to think it was the other way around.

"I'm not a whore." Is what I say. "I had a partner."

Hotch is nodding. "This Floyd Flanders?"

And I look at Aaron who is looking sad and confused. "Hotch…please…please don't make it sound so dirty and sordid…it wasn't like that." Though maybe it was. "I've known him for a long time…a very long time. It's not some quick or easy decision I made." I didn't make the decision at all…Floyd just moved in.

"So you know he has this list of – of – crimes against his name?"

I do a tight smile and throw the drink into my mouth…it feels good…it feels very good…and I glance over at the bottle on Hotch's cabinet and then back at Hotch again.

"I don't think…as far as I am aware that he has ever actually been arrested or if he has he has been released due to lack of evidence and that was when he was a child Hotch…he's changed."

He takes the glass from my hand. "So where is he Spencer…this person who gets accused of all of this then slips of the radar?"

I take the glass back again and stand up. "I don't know." And I am walking towards the drink on the side and suddenly that is all I can think about.

Faintly in the background I can hear mumbling and talking but I ignore it in my walk to the amber liquid I need so much…

…………………… "Reid!" and I jump and drop the glass to the floor where it shatters into a million tiny shards and sits looking at me. "Spencer….sit down please." And he takes my shoulder and leads me back to the couch.

-o-o-o-

I want to ask him about the blood test results….

They were taken when he was sent to hospital by a concerned citizen who saw him collapse in the street.

…………….I have to ask him…I just don't know how to say it without risking him backing off from me again. I want to be here for him…I want to be the one he comes to and I really can't risk upsetting this delicate balance.

"The blood test results." Ah…I said it…no backing off now….Spencer has folded himself up into the corner of the couch all arms and legs and so squashed in…very defensive.

He doesn't answer me or respond other then just looking at me and I know this is going to hurt him…it hurt me just looking at it. "You were very intoxicated." A start….start of gently and he is still just looking at me and I curse myself for offering him alcohol…that was so stupid…but I wanted him to be calm and relax. "You also had a number of drugs in your system." And he is still just looking at me. "Can you remember anything that happened?"

And he shrugs… "Sounds like I was at a drugs party or orgy….a shame I remember nothing."

I move a bit closer and put my hand out and rest it on his knee. "Spencer – I really am not having a go at you…I'm not accusing you of anything…I just want to understand."

Raised eyebrows. "Not accusing me? Drunk and drugged and you have the numbers on your bit of paper."

"Spencer…listen to me…I just want to know what happened."

He nods and unfolds a bit and leans forward and looks at me.

"Start to finish Hotch….I don't know what happened. I went to sleep in the park and I woke up in a police cell…everything else is gone. If there was anything else…and there must have been as I have four or five days missing – and I have been trying to think what I did during that time and I come up a blank every time. I have no idea." He looks at me…in the eyes…maybe for a bit too long and then he stands up… "Hotch…I really could do with another drink."

He really looks ill…I've seen him looking like this before and always put it down to lack of sleep…but the dark shadows under is eyes and the fiddling of his hands…I am now wondering how long drink has been a problem.

"How about a shower and then sleep…in a proper bed…you can have the spare room."

And I think for a minute he is going to pass out….he sways and his skin goes almost transparent it's so white. I jump up and grab hold of him…and this time I feel tentative arms around me holding me in return…

"A shower and sleep sounds good. Thank you."

I will let him rest… but this matter can't I have to know what happened….I have to find this mystery man of his…I have to work out where he has been and why the hell he had such a high alcohol count and why in gods name was there cocaine in his blood.

I don't want to talk to him about it now though…right now I want to help him over this first hurdle…and get him to relax.

Slowly I pull away from him… "Go and sort the shower out…I'll find you something to wear in bed." His hands slowly slide off me and he steps back and walks slowly to the bathroom…and I close my eyes and don't like the images of what I can see…I don't want to see him drunk and snorting drugs up his nose and I am sure that's the way he was taking it. It makes me feel sick thinking about it because I don't want to have been the cause of it…by rejecting him…by not seeing that something was very wrong with him.

I am damned profiler – why can't I see what is directly under my nose!

I can hear the water running when I reach the bathroom, but the door is open…I walk in and he is standing there with his back to me and I can see those nasty bruises up his spine. Some of them have turned yellow…some are fresh and dark…I can see boot imprints and finger marks on his skin….over his back…on his arms and down his legs…What the hell happened to him? I put the fresh night ware down and move in closer.

"Your things are on the shelf. I'll make some coffee." And I start to back out still looking at that tall skinny person standing there…

And he sighs….

"Hotch? Please – please don't go."

-o-o-o-

I'm drunk out of my foooooking head you know…..I am…and I can hardly fekking walk…….or stand…I will stay here where I was….

Hell…………..how many times in one night can a man get seen to like that?

HA!

Bastards…………………………you see I sorta remember….

……………………..and I'm going…………going…………….

Oops……I'm on my face in the gutter…………I'm going to have to kill someone…………because………….he is my reason for being………

And ……………….I'm trying to stand up…I don't want to get fucking arrested for drunk and disorderly…………………that would just be so funny I will probably explode in my pants…… bugger it………..

Agent Spen……….Spence………..some motherfukkkkkker killed my Spence…and I will

Will die too

Cos there is no point in being without him…………………and now it's too late……………I want to say goodbye but they will be watching…….

Watching and waiting for me…………..they must know who I am……….I know who I am……………I know who Spencer is……………….I just don't remember much else.

Its' coming….slowly…..as my brain tightens…….and with each sneeze and snort….and with each glass of any damned thing I can afford……a little bit more…………

* * *


	18. Chapter 18 Whiskey

Chapter 18

Whiskey 

**A/N: SLASH ALERT SLASH ALERT SLASH ALERT…..BUT ONLY A little**

* * *

I don't move. I stand knowing that he is just behind me…and he's not moving either. I don't want to be watched. Not this time I want to be held…I want to feel safe. I think I might be swaying slightly – I am desperate for a drink or something…and I feel so sick and ill. I just stand at the entrance to the shower and put a hand out and place it on the wall…I am hoping it will stop me from falling…and keeping my eyes shut helps as well.

I can feel the horrible throbbing in my leg and shoulder….and the wheezing breaths I am taking and suddenly there are hands on my shoulder.

"Spencer."

He doesn't say more…and he doesn't really need to…I start to walk forward and my heart is pounding in my chest and I don't know if this is the right thing to be doing…but it somehow just feels like a natural progression from the game we used to play.

The warm water is wonderful and the hands stay just where they are on my shoulders and he keeps back from me….his body not in contact with mine. I wait…I wait for a short while feeling the hands on my shoulders gripping so tightly and then I take a step back…big enough to bring my back in contact with his front….and I reach up and take one of his hands from my shoulder and pull it around so it is resting on my tummy and I hear the sigh and I feel him moving in tighter to me.

Tipping my head back I feel his other hand leave my shoulder and touch gently the side of my neck.

………………….and it dawns on me…………….like that…in a flash………..I have done this before. Lots of times before…..with lots of different people and this is the first time I haven't had Floyd watching me. I don't know if it is a new freedom or a sudden loss…I really don't know but I like it. I like it a lot.

I'm not sure if he wants me to take the lead…I don't know…so I just stay as I am and feel his mouth on the side of my neck and it sends tingles through my body and shudders down my spine. I want him.

I need him so badly but is he just a replacement…a substitute for something I've lost….something second best…….

…………….he's pushing me forward…a hand again on my shoulder he is pushing me against the wall…..and Hotch has done this before…this isn't the act of a first time lover. He is biting the back of my neck and running a set of fingers over my skin and gently oh so very gently he is touching…..

One hand playing with me in a gentle rhythm…and the other is running down my back and across my buttocks and he is preparing me…..in a familiar way….a way I have felt before.

"Hands on the wall."

He tells me, and so I move them from where they were and place them at shoulder level on the bathroom wall…

…………..He plays with me….he touches and the teases me….he takes me to the edge then pulls me back again……and I am trying to hold onto the slippery bathroom tiles because I think I am going to just slide to the floor in a heap of shuddering lust.

I need him!

I push back asking for him….but he just plays….with his hands….moving and touching and licking and biting and just….just breathing on me….

And all those times in the locker room I wondered….I wondered what it would feel like if he ever did this….if he breathed across my wet skin…what would that feel like? Now I know…Now I am glad I waited…that he waited for now.

I've had my eyes closed and now I open them and look down….and for a second…maybe two I don't understand what I am seeing….the water is pink…and in panic I move my hands off the wall and try to work out where the blood is coming from…..

"Put your hands back." He hisses it into my ear and I think I am going to faint….I don't think I can take this much longer

"I'm bleeding." I breathe back….

"You have a nose bleed….put your hands back." So I put them back again and lick my lips.

"It doesn't bother you….my blood."

And he bites my neck…. "It bothers me…it bothers me a lot Spencer….but maybe that is why I am finding this such a turn on. Now be quiet."

So I don't say more….not words….because now he is ready to finish and I feel him sliding over my skin and I feel him take me….as I push hard back and he moves his hand in the same rhythm and I think I might die….I think my heart might not cope with the strain of this.

When he steps back from me I let myself slide to the shower tray and curl up….I am shaking…and I can't stop. I am coughing and shaking and I feel sick and sated and hungry all at the same time.

A hand rests on the top of my head and then it is gone…Hotch has gone….but the water is still running and I am still coughing and sometimes a small spray of blood expels from my mouth….so I stay where I am and let the warm water sooth my back and I close my eyes. Even if I wanted to move I wouldn't be able to.

-o-o-o-

I don't have a clue where I am.

……….. but it's night…….the puddles are reflecting the neons from down the road and I am curled up by the bins with an empty bottle in my hand….

I was hoping I wouldn't wake up.

I really didn't feel like it.

All that time….all that damned time they were electrocuting me…and hacking at my mind….and pulling me apart…..all that time the only thing I craved for and wanted was gone. I should have given up…I should go back…I need to go back…

Go back and tell them everything…tell them all…they will give the lethal injection and I will metabolise it….they will electrocute me via old Sparky and I will grin and say 'thanks for the hard on….now what?'

I really do need to find his grave…no…I need to check on my information first….tomorrow….I will call him…I will call him on his cell and at work…they will tell me…then I will know…I will work out what to do next.

Walking – staggering down these streets now…I need a drink…I need some snort…I need to get my head in the right place and figure it all out…I keep getting weird flashes of someone else…other people but I don't have names for them. Another bloke…tall and not as skinny and wavy blondish hair…but I haven't got a name for him…but it's a good feeling I get with his face….and another…dark skinned…dark and – and I don't know why I don't like him…but it's got something to do with Spencer…I know it has…so I need to figure out who these people are….

A bar…set on the corner of the street so that the main entry doors are at an angle….there is leaded glass of different colours and I can smell the alcohol wafting under the door…I check my – sorry I check – Mr Towner's ever depleting supply of money and pull some out and put it in a different pocket…I don't want someone to see the wallet you understand? They might know him…ask questions and the I would have to kill every sonofabitch in the place.

Pushing open the doors I walk to the bar and sit. The barman walks over and just looks at me….the says. "Get out…I'm not serving you."

Ah shit…not serving me? "Why the hell not?"

"Cos you're drunk…get out."

"I'm fine…I'm just fine…whiskey…double." And I pull the money out of my pocket and place it on the sticky counter….no man will turn someone away when they have a wad of cash available.

So he sighs and shakes his head and takes a note and the pours drink into a glass. "Ice…soda…anything?"

I shake my head in reply and look at the drink on the bar. I can smell it…and it smells good…and something is telling me to chug it back and be happy with it…but I need more.

"I need……..I want…….anyone selling?"

"Drink up and get out. I don't care if you do have a roll of cash in your pocket…I don't want to have to call security."

So I nod and I reach over for the late edition newspaper on the counter and turn it over so I can see the headlines…

"Fuck."

The barkeep looks at me…. "Something wrong?"

But I am looking at shot of me from a security camera…back in the men's room. "Do not approach? Hell no!" and I want to laugh…but I just run my finger over the picture of me and look up at the barman. "Nothing's wrong…no one is fucking safe these days?" And the guy shakes his head sadly and looks at the paper.

"He had it coming. Well known in the area he was…patrolling the men's room…disease ridden and bitter about it."

I run my finger over the picture again… "Him?" I know it's not him…but I need him to confirm that for me….I want him to say 'hell yes him' and then I will know he is a lying mother…but he doesn't….

"No…not him…the guy killed. Another one?"

And I nod and watch the drink being poured into my glass.

I'm not having a good time of it you know…Firstly the priests blood…well that was out of order…I shouldn't have done that…I can still feeling bubbling in my arteries. Then I go and eat someone with some nasty STD and I should have known…Metabolising drugs is ok….getting rid of disease is fine….I have more of a problem with alcohol for some reason….and I didn't know that bloke was wrong…I let him screw me…then I killed and ate him…That's a helluva lot of metabolising I need to do and I don't think I can do it with the booze in me…I cant fucking think what I'm doing.

I pass another note over and he takes it and sticks it behind the bar…I don't get change…and I don't even see what number was written on the note, but I think I need to go…I had wanted to stay here for the rest of the day…or the night…whatever it is…I dunno anymore…night…I think it was dark…

"How much for a bottle?"

but he shakes his head…. "You've had more than enough buddy…I don't want to be the one responsible for your falling down dead."

And so I attempt to get up and move and find out that my legs don't work anymore…so with a sigh... "Just keep topping me up then." And I stay where I am. Trying to work out how to stop and at the same time not wanting to…but knowing that I have to. I can't risk disease…I can't risk making a mistake like that.

"I will go there."

The barkeep looks at me. "Go where?"

"To where he worked….tomorrow…I'll go there and ask."

And he tops me up again and smiles… "Yes mister…you do that." And he disappears in a foggy blur down the bar.

-o-o-o-

Hotch called in sick…but it's only paper work…more paper work than I ever thought possible. There is an escaped serial killer somewhere on our streets which makes me feel far less than happy about being at home on my own tonight…This whole incident with whoever that UnSub was has spooked me more than I would have thought possible…and my desk phone is ringing.

"Prentiss." I am feeling snappy and fed up. I want a sicky too. I want to spend my day wallowing and feeling sorry for myself. "Where? Now?" I look around to see if Morgan is available but he is off somewhere talking to Rossi about something or other…I don't know…and don't care….but someone is downstairs asking to see Reid, and that might be a problem. "I'll be right down…Did he give a name?" OK…I'll be down.

And I check my side arm and look again to see if Morgan is still busy and he is…so I go to the elevator and make my way slowly down to the ground floor. I sigh… don't know what to tell this stranger…I could have done with a bit more time….but I don't have it…I go over in my head what I will say to him.

As the doors whoosh open I am met by security who indicate one of the small side rooms down here. "I stuck him in room two…you want me to come with you?"

I nod…and walk over to the small room and open the door.

It stinks…What the hell? This person has obviously been sleeping rough…I can smell the sweet odour of vomit and whiskey…and the underlying stench of man sweat. "Can I help you?" I say to him…and he doesn't stand he turns and looks at me….

His hair is a nasty oily lump on his head …it is hacked at different lengths and his face is vile and filthy…yet somehow nice.

"I'm a friend of Reid's."

And the statement is so out there and wrong that I want to laugh.

"Did you have something you wanted to say?" I'm not giving this creature…however beguiling he might be any information on Reid.

"I just wanted to know where he is."

The voice is cracked and sad…and suddenly the smell doesn't matter so much.

"He's not here anymore…I'm sorry." And though he was an interesting part of the team as far as dictionaries go…I'm not sorry.

"I need to say goodbye…I need to know where he is."

"I'm sorry…I'm not at liberty to divulge that sort of information." And I watch as he rests his head on the table. "Can I have your name please….for the record?" But he just looks at me and stands…

"Not really necessary is it…I'm not at liberty to divulge that sort of information miss. Have a nice day." And I watch as he turns to leave and I wonder if this is Floyd…and if it is why he doesn't just go home…I can't believe that Spencer would live with a foul creature like this.

"Floyd? Are you Floyd?" I ask…and he turns slowly and looks at me. "Spencer mentioned you." And he just nods and leaves. "Wait…a contact number? An address….where are you staying?" but he ignores me and leaves. As far as I know he has done nothing wrong….just another junky drunk from the streets.

I look over at the guy on security. "I need the tapes and I need them now and if he ever returns I need to know immediately." He nods and moves off and I can smell a strange musky smell in the room now...I take in a deep breath and look out where the guy is staggering out to the street.

Oh I don't know why I did it…I really don't… but there was something about him. I take the security tape and follow out into the street. He hasn't got far…I can see him leaning on the wall bent forward throwing up into the gutter. I place a hand on his shoulder. "Floyd?" and he turns slowly and looks at me. "If there is anything I can do? Do you have money?"

He gives me an odd smile. "Thanks babes…I have money. I just needed to see Spencer…you know." And I nod and look at the ground and I wish I could take him home and shower him…personally shower him…and…

Inappropriate thoughts…I back off. "Take care." And I find I am giving him my card. "Call me OK?" and he looks at it and frowns and looks up at me…

"I don't feel too good. Food poisoning I think…thanks erm…Agent Emily Prentiss." And I watch as he turns and carries on his stagger until he is lost in the crowd.

-o-o-o-

I hear him leave the bathroom and I hear him pad across the hallway to the kitchen…I get up and walk to the door and stand looking at him... "Spencer." But he just pours a coffee and adds lots of sugar.

"I'm tired."

He doesn't look at me. I don't know….maybe this is screwed up…maybe I calculated it wrong… but I don't think so. "The guest room is here." So I show him the room…small and blue and comfortable…a double bed in the middle and yellow drapes which I pull shut for him. I turn back the bedding and smile. "If you need me……" And he looks and does one of his nervous little smiles and then looks away and places his mug on the coaster on top of the stripped pine bed side table.

"Sleep well." I say and I leave and close the door and stand there to the side…so he cant see my shadow and I lean on the wall and I don't know how long I have been standing there for…it seems like an eternity…there is so much I want to ask him…and need to know…

It starts off as a mumble…then a yelp…then a scream…I am in that room faster than you can believe….he is there on his back on the bed his arms flailing at unseen monsters and tears running from his eyes.

"Spencer." I talk softly to him as I sit on the bed and my hands carefully take his. "It's ok…its Hotch…" And his screams turn to scared whimpers as he pulls he hands away from mind and rolls onto his side with his back to me.

It's nothing….

It's just comforting a distressed comrade.

It's the last time though…I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know I am taking advantage of him…even if this might be what he wants…it's not what I want…I want this…god I want this…but I want him in his right mind…I need to know that this is really what he wants…and isn't the leftovers of some drunken drugged night on the town….

So I lay next to him and wrap my arms around him and bury my head into his soft hair and I am his protector. I will not let whoever is hurting him to continue. I have lost Haley…I will be damned if I will lose Spencer too.

-o-o-o-

I feel so ill…

I feel so bloody empty and ill….

So I stand on the bridge and look down at the traffic below me and hold onto the rail and pull myself up so I am standing on the narrow rail. One step forward and it's over. Road kill…One step back and I can try to re-asses this situation…There is a dead jogger laying out in the park somewhere…her heart ripped from her chest…I thought it would make me feel better…but it doesn't. It makes it feel all the more pointless.

So what do I do….time it so I land in front of one of those mile long trucks…or step back and go and get pissed out of my brains?

* * *


	19. Chapter 19 Water

Chapter 19

Water

* * *

I might be only sixteen but I'm not a kid….I've seen some crazy stuff in my time with the gangs and stuff…but I've never seen a jumper before…so I stand for a while and just watch. When he hasn't done anything for about fifteen minutes I call out to him.

"Oy…just get it over with will you so I can go home?"

And he turns….hell how he kept his balance I don't know…like some trick tight rope walker or summat…but he turns and looks at me.

"I'm not stopping you."

"Well you sorta are…cos I wanna see the splat…so if you're going to do it…just do it ok? Or get down and I can go home and have my cocoa."

I watch him turn and look back down at the traffic. "I might be a while yet…waiting for the right vehicle."

"Yeah…sure…you would have done it by now if you's gonna do it."

And he turns to me again. "You are disturbing me kid. I am saying my goodbyes…so sod off and drink your cocoa…I'm not doing this for you."

"You won't do it…" I put my push bike against the railings and walk over to him.. "Help me up…I wanna see this perfect vehicle too."

But he looks down at me and frowns… "Why don't you fuck off kid and leave me alone."

"Because you're behaving like an arsehole."

And I don't know if that was the wrong or right thing to say cos he is off the rail and has his hand is against my chest and he is turning me and pushing me hard against the railings….but a kick in his shins makes him back off of a bit. "Shit kid! Cant you understand?"

Oh and for one horrible moment I think he is going to burst into tears…or worse…song….but he doesn't he just leans back on the railings and looks up at the sky. "You can go…I'm not your entertainment."

And so I go…I get my bike and cycle by him watching out of the corner of my eye cos I get the feeling he wants to chuck me over the bridge.

But I scan the local news that night….and wonder how he topped himself cos I'm sure he did.

It was years later…as an adult…that I went back to that bridge myself and stood on that same rail and looked down at the same traffic and learned how to fly.

-o-o-o-

When I awaken I wonder at first where I am and what I am doing. Then I remember. Reid had a nightmare. I held him until we both rested and relaxed and I could hear the heavy sighs of this sleeping breaths….but he has gone now and reaching over and touching where he had been laying the bed is cold. I roll over and sigh. It's still early…the digital alarm clock on the shelf says it is six in the morning…so I slide off the bed and make my way to the kitchen. He's not here either…and now a slight panic rises….Bathroom door is wide open and a quick glance shows me nothing of interest except the hot tap is running into the basin. I walk in and turn it off, looking up at the mirror as I do so. Someone…and it must have been Reid has written upon the steam covered surface. '_Where are you?' _I think about wiping it off but leave it with a frown on my face and walk to the lounge….and this is when I find him.

"My god Reid." I can see him laying on his front on the floor between the couch and coffee table. An empty bottle of whiskey has rolled to the side and another of gin has dropped a bit further away….He is laying in a slowly cooling puddle of vomit.

Quickly I am at his side and touching my fingers on his neck….he feels cold…very cold….but I can feel a weak pulse under my fingers….I leave him laying on his front and stand up again looking at him…How long has this been going on for? How many nights has he spent at home with his man getting drunk like this? Not like this….I would know… sure I would know. I lean down again and carefully lift him off the mess he's made on my floor….he makes soft moaning sounds at me…I'm not sure if he is saying thanks, or requesting I leave him alone….but I take him carefully and dripping to the bathroom and sit him in the shower tray.

I stand for a short while remembering the last time I saw him there…very different then…I felt the same though…over powering sense that I have to – against all odds – protect this person. I turn on the water to a not quite cold but not warm either temperature and watch as his curled up form slowly gets washed of the muck and smell over him. I strip down to my boxers and sit with my legs crossed in the large shower cubical and gently stroke his hair. Partly because it is so soft and wonderful to touch and partly to get rid of the mess he had been laying in.

I am careful with him…he seems so fragile and lost I want to be there for him and be the one he turns to and be the one he needs but I wonder if it is all too late for him now. I doubt…with the bloods we got back that Strauss is going to allow him back to work – no unless Dave gets over there and talks to her…that is…if Reid can do the job still anyway?

I want to strip him of the pyjamas he is in… but I don't want him to think I am taking advantage of him so I just sit with him – and it's a long time – coming up for two hours before he stirs and moves and starts to cough.

"It's OK Reid." I say to him and stroke my fingers down his back… "I just put you in the shower to clean you up a bit."

And he turns to look at me…and maybe he is crying? I'm not sure…the water from the shower is running down his face covering up the evidence. I touch his face gently and I don't ask questions and I don't point the finger of blame at him…not yet.

-o-o-o-

It's a stormy morning…the light isn't really getting the chance to break through the clouds…but that's ok…I don't care anymore. I am on a bridge again…but a different one. This one is over the river…deep deep down below me. I can hear it…the strong current as the river fills with the rain up on the hills and pushes it down in brown muddy torrents. So this is my decision – I will tell you what I think…after much walking around and even more booze and I even snorted some crap laced with painkillers – bastards don't sell it pure; and pain killers? What in hells name are they meant to do for me? Fuck all...I wanted to disappear you know…just stop existing but I can't do that. I have to reach a point where nothing matters…and my goal in life…OK not all of my life cos that's been longer than you can imagine…but my recent one…my one with Spence…that was just to – I dunno – protect.

Don't fucking frown at me like that? I know…I know I hurt him… but it's for a reason…and he understands….understood….he knew. He knew why I did that and he didn't mind.

It's crossed my mind that I should pull my self out of this hole I've fallen into and go and kill Agent Derek Morgan…and screw Emily Prentiss…and I mean that literally…but this big fat 'I can't be arsed' attitude has set in now…and well….as I said…I cant be arsed…it just seems like a hell of a lot of trouble to go to and there is the risk they will connect me with Frankie…who I know they are looking for….I expect they've been trying to profile him…but that's fucked….he doesn't exist now…Now there is just me…and I am tired and I am finished….

Time to move on and do what the boss requires…and he requires that the ones who lose their mark lose themselves.

I wrote him a letter…you know one of those things you write when you need bare you soul – not that I have one – but when you need to tell someone something…and I don't think I ever told him this…so I wrote it on the back of a paper napkin and I got a condom and I stuffed it inside and tied it in a tight knot. I washed it first…the condom…I did wash it…

Anyway…it's in my pocket now…so if they never find me then that's cool…if they do…then he will get a letter from me…either way…I just don't want them finding me and him not knowing…doubt this makes sense…As he's dead and all but you know...Someone will read it for him...I've had too much to drink…too much to snort…too many fucks…and now it's time to go.

I'm feeling a bit hungry.

My nose is bleeding….

The bridge is brick…and the ledge quite wide and it needs to be because this is one hell of a storm…in a funny way it's almost like I'm being called home again…Time is up Flanders…you messed up and lost the only thing you ever loved.

So I stand on the ledge and look down at the water and the wind is blowing my hair around and my shirt is sort of billowing out on me….and I am waiting as I did before…I am waiting for Spencer to come and tell me not to do it.

But he can't.

And he won't.

It takes just the blink of an eye…

And I am gone.

-o-o-o-

I feel so ill.

And I feel so empty….

I can feel the water running over me and I can feel a hand on my back and I can hear comforting words, but this is just another reminder that I have someone with me who cares and who wont let oblivion take me no matter how much I think I need it.

"I don't feel too well." I think it important to let him know…let Hotch know that I think I might be sick again.

"I should have taken you to the hospital." And the hand rubs harder on my back as I start to cough again. I don't think that the damage done that day is ever going to properly heal…my lungs just don't work as they should do anymore…I try to push up in the shower try and sit, but Hotch keeps a firm hand on me. "I am willing to help you Reid. I will stand by you and help you through whatever it is but you need to tell me…you have to trust me and confide in me."

But I don't know how much I can tell him – or how much I want to tell him.

"Hotch." I rub at my eyes and bite on my bottom lip. "Thank you…but there isn't much to tell that you don't already know or haven't guessed."

The hand leaves me and I feel him move and stand. "When you are ready…I will leave you something to change into…maybe you need to go home and pick a few things up. I would like you to stay here for a while…Until……"

"I don't want to get in the way." And I move now and sit up in the warm water.

He crouches in the water in front of me and pushes hair out of my eyes. "Spencer…you are not in the way. I would love the company. I really mean that…but I do need you to be honest with me…and I do need you to try to think about what has been going on."

And I nod….but I don't know how much help I will be…I don't know what he wants…If it is what happened in those few missing days….well I still don't know….If it is why I drank myself into unconsciousness then I might be able to tell him, but he wont like it. And I don't want to hurt this man who seems finally to have – have – what….screwed his subordinate? Or was there more to it than that? Am I some dirty little prize he won….or – I really don't know…there were no words said….no terms of endearment – nothing…so what was it? Just opportunity because I left the door open…on purpose.

He stands again and as he does he runs fingers over the side of my face…where there is a slight mark still from the gun shot. He gives me a rare smile and stands back… "Take your time. There's no rush." And he had gone.

I get up and slowly strip the wet clothes off me and pull a towel off Hotch's shelf and wrap it tightly around myself.

He is in the lounge clearing up where I emptied my stomach contents….I just stand and watch him for a while. There is something so calm and relaxing about the man. Something I've never found in anyone else before. Nothing hidden…all just there…no need to be afraid I will say the wrong thing…I can let my defences down completely when around Aaron. I know…I know he would never raise a hand to me. I know he wouldn't beat and abuse me….I know he would always be gentle and kind….but…..

…………………I don't know if that is what I want…………..not forever……………where would the excitement be? The adventure….if you know you will always be safe and cared for and loved? I don't know if it's what I want….no….not want….I don't know if that is what I need…..or maybe it's not what I am used to.

When it suddenly happens I think I make a strange sound in the back of my throat….I suddenly can't breathe…everything is horribly heavy and it's almost like being ripped off a river bank and being plunged into deep icy water.

I feel the floor coming up and smacking me in the face and I hear Hotch saying something…shouting something….but everything is going dark….and I need to breathe…but there is nothing there…I am drowning…I am falling and drowning…

In desperation I try to get back….claw my way back to the surface but something is pulling me down….and it's too cold and too dark and………..

And I open my mouth to scream…….

…but …….nothing happens………...

and I float.

* * *


	20. Chapter 20 Home

Chapter 20

Home

* * *

I can feel a hand on mine.

My head is thumping and as I lick my lips I feel they are dry and I feel so thirsty.

I take in a shuddering breath and pain shoots over my chest.

The hand on mine grabs hold and squeezes….

"Easy Spencer…"

Hotch's voice.

I open my eyes carefully and look up at a bright white ceiling. Hospital…I can smell that smell. And something blowing softly against my face, so I turn and look at Hotch who looks as though he hasn't taken any sleep in months but he still manages a twitch of a smile.

"What happened?" My voice is croaky and doesn't sound much like me and I follow my question with a request. "Water?" And I see Hotch nod and reach over out where I cannot see and he gently…always so gentle that it brings tears to my eyes – he gently puts a straw to my lips and I suck in some of the cool liquid.

"Not too much…you will be sick." And he takes it away from me and now he is holding up a small round tin of lip balm. "Do you mind?"

So I lick my lips again… "It would be lovely." My voice sounds a bit more normal now.

"You were bleeding internally Spencer. It effected you lungs…you stopped breathing, and then your heart stopped. I though I'd lost you." And it is my turn for the tight smile.

But I don't want to talk to him. I feel too confused. I'm happy…so happy that Aaron is here…but I don't want this to be wrong. Then again this might be my only chance to be loved properly…without the underlying threats and pain.

I need a drink….damn I need a drink to get my head in order so I can think properly…I need to work out what to do…I don't want to lead this man on….but then I already have. It's too late now. Thinking about what got me here and the things which happened beforehand and I feel I need to tell all…But what happened between Derek and I? How can I tell that little story and ever be believed?

So he gently wipes balm over my lips and I take in a deep breath at the feel of his hands on me…hands which I don't have to flinch away from and in a strange way I miss that – that sudden surge when his hands touch me…and I don't know…I really don't know…however much I might want or need this love he is offering me…I don't know if it is what I want. I just feel confused. I need things back how they were….I need to be back at the BAU and I need Floyd at home when I get there…and I need my Friday night shower and game in the locker room…but this is the whole thing…my stupid locker room games are what has brought me here now.

"Hotch – thank you."

And he is looking at me with those dark deep eyes and I am trying to work out what he is thinking…but his expression is blank…there for me to add my own meaning to it.

"You will be here for a few days. Then I'm taking you back to my place and I don't want you to argue with me about it. I will collect some of your clothes later… and we can discuss what to do with your apartment. You are on sick leave pending and investigation – Strauss wanted you suspended without pay, but Rossi had a word with her."

Live with Hotch? I don't know if I can…If I want to…I don't know…

"I don't know…Is that such a good idea?" He knows I will never return to the BAU or he wouldn't be saying this and that is painful…my life…all I had ever been prepared for will be gone. Is gone…and when it was there it wasn't what people thought. I've lied and cheated my way through many a day at the BAU. I've come into work hung over and desperate for a drink and they never suspected. They saw the darkness under my eyes and always shrugged it off.

"It's the only way Spencer. I'm not going to let you return to you place alone."

And I am a profiler…he is scared …he is scared I will get high or drunk…he is scared and I don't like it.

"Very well…we can try it out. Until I'm better. Until you trust me."

And so he stands back from me and wipes the hair from his face and then moves forward and adjusts the thing blowing air over my face. "This is to help you breathe."

"I know."

And he leans down and kisses me on the forehead. "I need to go…I have to be at work. I will be back later."

"No. Please Aaron…go home and sleep…I am fine here. Just go and get some rest."

He leaves and deep down I am glad he is gone. Floyd will be annoyed. He wont like it…but he's not here. He's gone. He's not even there inside me anymore or slipping around inside my head and I wonder what happened…I wonder if he did just walk away or if something worse happened…and if Garcia cant find him, no one can.

I wipe a tear from my face…This is insanity. I know it is…I know it is a mistake…but Aaron is offering me safety and comfort. In exchange for what? My arse? That was all Floyd ever wanted…that and my mouth. I don't know… I really don't know what Hotch wants back from me.

-o-o-o-

I love storms…they are magnificent. And they earn me money. It does mean going out in them and getting very wet but the photographs are well worth it. Tonight is a good one…and down here at the river I am getting some awesome views.

My camera…digital obviously is taking dozens…no, probably hundreds of snap shots of a stormy evening.

Some I just click click click…others I stop and look at for a while…or I look at a bit later…flicking through the pictures captured on the memory. Seen once…that bolt…only ever seen once but there forever…

So I am at the water's edge and I am taking shots of the foam…the way it reflects in the strange light the storm has produced and sometimes I stop the clicking and look at one which is maybe more outstanding than the others…and it's while I am doing this that I see something…caught a little way from the edge. I'm curious because it's like something…some old rubbish someone has tipped into the water…and it shines and reflects in a greenish mouldering way.

Carefully I step closer and change my angle to get more shots of it…and as the sky suddenly lights up and I am looking through my viewfinder…there it is.

"Shit!"

Jumping back from the edge I look around and look back down at what is a slime covered body floating face down at the edge of the water. I'm no pussy…I've seen dead things before but not during a storm and not so unexpected.

There have been reports in the paper…some gay basher killing off queers in the park and chucking them in the water…and so really I have no sympathy for him…if that is what he is…and I think it pretty darn likely. They all get what they deserve in the end…fucking homo's. So I step in closer and get more shots before I pull my cell phone out and call 911.

"I dunno…police? There's a body floating in the water down here." And so I tell them where I am and wait until the cops and various other people arrive.

I'm taking shots now of the cops and other people milling around and the storm is still raging like the gods are pissed with someone…and I watch them stand looking…he's - I think it's a he, is too far out to reach…they go back and get a pole which they unfold and it has a hook in the end and they start to………………..

"Excuse me." A cop is talking to me. "Do you mind not taking photos."

"I called it in…." I start.

"And I'm telling to you stop. Have some respect will you."

"Respect for some dead fag?" and a fist lands on my face and knocks me back into the wet grass…and as I lay there the camera is snatched out of my hands and the memory card removed.

"Yes buddy. Respect." And he walks away with my nights work in his fucking pocket. Bastard.

I watch still though. I cant help but watch as they drag the body closer to the bank. They have the medics just standing around and a coroner's van with the back doors open and a body bag being carried down to the river.

Standing up I move in closer again….morbid fascination keeps me there…I might not be able to take photos but I can watch.

(Thinking back…now if I look at it…I think I made a strange noise at this point.)

I watch…

They turn him over and – and I am telling you it's like from some fucking A one horror movie…this slime covered mouldering thing it opens its eyes…it opens its mouth and screams the most horrible bubbling scream I've ever in my fucking life heard!

If all the noise is coming from him…or if some of it is from the young cop who just turned this guy over and from the medical staff on hand ..or from the guy with the body bag…I don't know…I just know that the sound is something I will never forget…how the hell can he be alive?

How the hell?

-o-o-o-

His apartment smells funny…like some old locked up for years library. I can smell the books. I can smell something else too but I'm not sure what it is. I just stand for a while and look down the hallway. I don't understand…I can't understand how someone he spent so much time with can just suddenly not be there…and I think of Haley. I remember how it broke my heart and how I tried to hide it. I know…I know it was gradual. I had time to prepare my mind for it…and yes I have contact with her, because no matter how much I am angry with her there is still love there. She is Jack's mother…of course I still love her. Somewhere deep down inside of me…not on the surface happy and bubbling like it used to be…but yes…I had time to prepare…Spencer… He's had no time…one day all was good…he was loved and cared for and the next – the next something happened. He said he was sexually assaulted and that is something I will have to talk to him about…did this Floyd person do this to him? Or is there something I am missing? Whatever…he had no prep time…his security was whipped out from under his feet…and he fell hard.

Slowly I walk to his bedroom. Last time I found the signs of drug use and someone else's clothing. I assumed the drugs belonged to that other person…but I don't know now. The weird thing though…we looked for alcohol and found none. But maybe he didn't drink in the house…oh god…maybe he just did drugs…this picture is getting worse…I don't like the images forming in my mind.

I push his bedroom door open and look at the mess…There are clothes all over the bed…and as I look at them I see they are not Spencer's…they are definitely not his. Designer labels and vintage. Very odd…and this is where that other smell is coming from. I go and pull some clothes out of Reid's cupboard and push them into a flight bag sitting under the window. I think about packing some of his graphic novels in there too…but I am constantly drawn back to the clothing on the bed.

Sitting now…

Sitting on the edge of the bed I pick up a heavily embroidered brocade waistcoat. I feel the luxurious fabric in my hands and look at the deep red…it looks old…the stitching is by hand…hand made and ancient…I have no idea what sort of person this Floyd is but he is definitely not run of the mill. I can smell that odd musky smell here now I have disturbed the clothing. I hold it to my face and inhale the scent. It is such a strong and strange smell that it makes my head spin and – and – I need to get out of this place. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be touching this stuff. So with a dizzy head I grab the bag and leave the room…I find I have to put my hands on the wall to balance myself on the way to the front door…and as I do I turn and look back down the hallway. I need to take that waistcoat and find out what the hell that smell was…is…but later…yes…not now…later…plenty of time for that. I want to get this stuff home…I want to take it to the house and put some of Spencer's things in it. A smile crawls over my face thinking about it.

"Lap top."

I mutter to myself and a quick dash to his desk and I am picking his lap top and putting it in his messenger bag…I run my fingers over the leather of the bag…something I do 'accidentally' quite often and now I don't have to hide it. I do need to get out though…so quickly I leave. I will talk to Spencer about putting his things in storage. Moving in with me properly…or at least for now…until he is better…if you ever recover from what has happened.

My heart is pounding like I am a sixteen year old school boy waiting to watch the cheerleaders and I don't think have smiled this much in my life ever. The thought of having Spencer so close to me makes my eyes water.

I drive home and I park up outside my – our place. To be able to share again – to have someone to come home to…and for that person to be Spencer. Am I expecting too much? Am I pushing him too hard too fast?

The house is just a house…but soon… Very soon it will be a home. I walk in and take Spencer's things to the spare room and place the bag on the bed…I don't want to make it look like I am taking advantage. I need to sleep…

A nasty case….someone is killing what seems to be gay guys and junkies and dumping them in the river…a few have been found…six in all…and we think there are more missing….but in that river if you go in there at the wrong time you will never been seen again.

-o-o-o-

"I demand you send me back!"

But I don't think they are listening to me.

"You can't do this!"

And they don't answer me.

"I can't be there without him!"

And now I get an answer. "Get out of here…go and do our job."

And I'm gone again…

"I want to start over!"

But that was it…

And now things are being stuck down my throat and holy moly they zap my heart back to life…and people are shouting…and something is being wrapped around me and they take me away and I want to go back…I want to tell them to put me back! Please put me back…I don't want to be here without him! But I have a fucking tube down my throat and I cant talk.

-o-o-o-

The storm is still raging when they take him away…I cant believe the guy is still alive…that is just so not right! I walk over to where they had been working on him…they used the paddles on him a few times…I wouldn't think with all that filthy water in him he will live. Maybe I will follow it up…call the hospital tomorrow….see if he is still alive…

And it is then I see it laying on the ground…a condom…and there is nothing too unusual about that…but there is something in it…some paper folded inside of it….so I pick it up with the tips of my fingers and put it in my jacket pocket. I'll have a closer look when I get home…and have gloves on.

* * *


	21. Chapter 21 The Soul

Chapter 21

The Soul

**A/N: for PoRM**

* * *

Days of doing nothing in a hospital can send a man crazy. Luckily I am safe.

Hotch is here every evening after work even though I insist he goes home and sleeps…he does in the end…but he spends a good few hours a night with me.

I feel bad. I still feel confused over my feelings and though he isn't pushing…he is just letting it go with the flow…I still don't know if this is right.

The thing is…if I don't…if I say I won't go back and stay with him then I will have to go to some convalescence place until I can go home. They are not happy with me going back to somewhere alone.

"I will be alone all day anyway." I tried to argue…but he has engaged someone to baby sit me…and though…I really do know he is meaning the best – I could do without that sort of love and care…and I know he loves me. I can see it in his face and this is so hard for me…so very hard because I know I will never be loved like this by anyone else ever.

"Just until they give you the all clear."

He tells me…and so I will be doing a lot of healing and not much doing…because I don't want a someone hanging around all day watching to see if I pass out.

Hotch insists in carrying my bag down to the car…and insist in walking even though I was given the opportunity to get a lift in a chair.

"Please – I'm fine…I can walk."

And I can see that worried look on his face and he picks up my bag and links his arm around mine…and I feel so totally safe and loved and needed that it makes me feel dizzy.

But I don't know…can I love him the same back? I do have feelings…I wouldn't lead him on and play this sort of game if I didn't but there in the back of my mind I know I could never love him as much as I did – do – I still do – love Floyd…and that is deceitful.

Then again…it seems I spend a lot of my time pretending to be what I'm not. I need to be what I really am for a change.

I sigh and as we walk I look to my side and watch Aaron's face in profile and hope that I will be able to give back to him all he is giving me.

The ride home in the car is made mostly in silence. I don't know what to say…and Hotch looks nervous. Afraid of me? Scared of the situation? I'm not sure…I lick my lips and take in a deep breath…

"Oh."

It hurts….it feels like someone has ripped open my chest…

"Hotch…pull over."

But he has already and I am fumbling for the harness and trying to unclip it.

"Spencer…what's wrong?" His hands fluttering over my arm…and on my head.

"It hurts!" and every breath feels like something is tearing…

and his arms take me and he is rubbing my back and talking gently to me. "Small careful breaths Spencer…you are panicking." The closeness…the sound of his heart beating in his chest…the feel of his hands gently touching me…and slowly the pain subsides and my breaths become softer.

"I'm sorry." I say it so quietly I don't know if he will hear…but he does and he wipes the hair off my sweaty face and smiles at me.

"No need to be sorry Spencer." He says to me…quietly and gently as always…as he finger brushes my hair and just holds me so gently like I will break if he holds me too tightly…I am shaking slightly and I don't know if it is from the pain or from the feeling of being wanted or if it is the side effects of needing a drink so much I think my head will explode.

Slowly I sit back up again and Hotch adjusts the seat so it's resting back and he leans over and puts the restraint carefully across me again. "About ten more minutes and we will be home." I can feel a hand laying on my knee and it feels good.

Resting back on the seat I close my eyes and feel the movement of the car as we pull out into the traffic again. Home…he said we are going home…but it's not my home. It's Hotch's home…and it's very nice…but it's not mine.

I feel a shuddering breath creep through me.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asks me.

"Yes….I'm good." And I turn my head and watch him and I smile a tight smile and make a wish somewhere that this works out.

-o-o-o-

I'm so damned desperate for my next hit I don't know what I'm going to do…

My jeans are soaked through and I think my hoodie has doubled in size from all the damned rain. My trainers a squeaking and squelching…and I just need some cash…this storm…damn this storm…the is no one around…I might be a little skinny thing but point a knife in someone's face and demand a wallet and they usually comply…more likely if I pull my hood up and try to disguise that I'm a girl. I push my dripping wet hair out of my eyes and watch the scene from a distance. I see them pull someone from the river…poor sod, I think at first…I see the cop hitting the guy with the camera….and then I see them rush the river man or woman off in an ambulance…all lights a blazing. Slowly the crowd disperses but the camera guy is still there. I watch him pick something up. From here I can't see what it is…but it looks like someone has dropped something and he doesn't call after the cops…no…bastard puts it in his jacket pocket…

I know he has at least a camera on him…that will give me enough cash for what I need. I walk towards him and luck has it that the cops are gone quickly and the other load of people traffic has dispersed. There are loads cracks of thunder still and it disguises the sound of my wet trainers. I pull the knife from my hoodie pocket.

"Hey." I am right behind him now. "Drop the camera and anything you have in your pockets. Don't turn around." And I prod him a bit in the back…I really don't want him to turn cos I am probably half his size and he will swat me…so I jab him a bit harder. "Did you hear me?" My hand is shaking slightly and I need this guy to do what I am asking quickly. "Just drop the damned camera and walk away." I hiss at him.

Crap…he's not doing what I want and is turning around. I see his face as the lightening lights up the sky and he sees mine and he laughs at me! Yes he laughs…and it just happens…I feel it sink into his over fed stomach and I see the surprised look on his face. Now I've never done this before….not actually stuck it in like this…and I push it in hard and can feel blood squishing over my fingers and I am holding the handle of the knife with its good eight inches of blade with both hands…shaking hands…and as his knees bend I hold it still and feel it sliding through him..

"You should have just given me the damned camera you idiot."

And the last words to leave his mouth are "Fucking junky whore."

I kick him onto his back...and pull out the knife and snatch up the camera then go through his pockets…not much…but find the thing he picked up…a condom? With something stuffed inside it. I look over at the river and then in the direction the ambulance went….it must have been from the guy in the river. He was protecting it.

Camera in pocket…weird message in a condom in my jeans and the knife also in my pocket I wash the blood on my hands off in a puddle and race out of the park and toward my next fix.

-o-o-o-

I'm in a bit of a bad mood.

Again…people have a habit of this…I have been stripped and washed when I was out of it. I don't mind…not really but sometimes I would like to hear what they are saying when they wipe my arse. I'm on my back and I have a tube stuck down my throat and there are things on my chest…

Now…now I don't really like this. They will see…they will know.

"Hello."

Ah crap…I need a story.

"Nice to see you awake. I want you to relax and I will take the tube out."

And I give her my bitchy slitty eyes look and dare her to come near me…but obviously I don't look too frightening in hospital pyjamas and a hose in my gob….she ignore my threats and smiles at me.

I don't have a gag reflex…either born without or lost it many years ago…I don't remember ever having one.

"You gave us all quite a scare you know."

"Think of something original to say then come back and bother me." I say back to her.

But she smiles…and it makes me want to knock her teeth out…her enamels rather…they are not real teeth….too white and too straight…I like a mouth to have character….I like a full mouth…I need Spencer.

"We need your name sir….and the police will be wanting to talk to you. Also any allergies? And erm…operations?"

"Anthony…Anthony Waits…and I say An Tony…not this An Thony crap…get it right on the record. Waits….W. A. I. T. S. Now fuck off and find my clothes."

"Allergies? Operations?"

"Screw you."

And I get out of bed…and I think…yep…knew it…bloody knew it…I'm on my face on the floor.

"Mr Waits." The voice sounds prissy and smart. "You need to go back to bed."

"And you need to go home and find someone to fuck you…touch me and I will hurt you…just don't you fucking touch me."

Right…I am seeing red…I can't even bloody kill myself…I need him!

I need Spencer so damned much I can't not have him…and they won't even let me say my goodbye…and until I have…

I need to talk to his boss…

What the fuck? Seems I am crawling out of the room and they are asking me nicely to go back to bed.

"Mr Waits please…"

So I get up and walk back to my bed.

"See I'm fine."

I'm not.

I want to die.

I want to drink and get high and walk in front of a train….surely I can't survive that?

"I've had a bad day…I fell in the river."

She looks at me with her radio active teeth and I want to pull them out and sell them on the black market.

"I need my clothes back…I have something I need to do."

So she frowns and places a bag on the bed. "Your belongings Mr Waits…I will get your clothes. I tip the bag out and look…a few dollars and – I frown and scrunch the bag up…my message to Spencer has gone.

"Shit…why that? Why did I have to lose the thing most important to me?"

The chair….

The cabinet.

One of those tray things they put around hospital beds…

Some equipment….

It goes flying.

"Mr Waits." Someone keeps saying and it takes a while for it to sink in that they are shouting at me. "Mr Waits….you clothes…I think you need to get dressed and leave….you seem to be in fine health now." A snappy annoyed voice.

"I had a letter…in my pocket. Wrapped in a condom."

"That was all you had…Your clothes…if you can leave please."

They let me go….

No…actually they virtually throw me down the stairs in a rush to get rid of me.

So here I am…my clothes are dry but not clean…they stink of filth and river water…and I have a few dollars….I need a drink…I need something to snort…but I don't have the cash for that. I need Spencer. Damn I need him so much it hurts. I didn't…haven't…will never even get the satisfaction of knowing what happened…. They are probably still looking for Frankie…I have to be careful. I can't afford to be picked up.

I lean on the wall….I place one hand on the wall and the other I use to get my manhood out and I piss in the gutter.

"Hey."

Ah crap….no no no fucking no.

I turn slowly and it's a kid…in a hoodie.

"Are you the guy they pulled from the river?" And I can see she is watching my put my stuff away again…

"Why? Who the hell are you?"

"You dropped something back at the river….something in a condom?" and she has it…the little bitch has it.

I nod at her…and put my hand out and notice it's shaking a bit. I pull my hand back and rub at my nose and try again. "Thanks girl…now hand it over."

"How much is it worth?"

and I think about that for about a second. "It's worth me not breaking your fucking neck…now hand it over."

And she is bloody waggling it at me…my inner thoughts…my soul…that is my damned soul in that condom and she is walking away …she is turning her back on me and walking off. "Wait! Wait…I'll let you blow me." Seemed like a deal and a good one as it's a girl but she keeps walking. "What do you want?!"

And now she turns back to me and comes back…she smiles and takes me by the hand…. "This way…" And the little gutter brat leads me off down a dark alley way.

It doesn't take long…I'll let you fill in the details…but we are both satisfied I think…her more than me…she just got done by Flanders…that's no small payment you know and I got my soul back…and I lifted her cocaine…

-o-o-o-

I sleep in the spare room.

At about midnight he walks into my room…I am still awake just looking at the shadows on the ceiling.

"Spencer?"

I push up onto my elbows and smile. "Can't sleep?"

"Want to keep me company?"

And that was it…the only invite I needed…An invitation to warm gentle arms…and unconditional love.

How can I refuse?

* * *


	22. Chapter 22 Drink

Chapter 22

Drink

* * *

I don't know how long I lay there for. It felt like the night was going to last forever.

Not that I wouldn't have loved it to, but I had to do something and I knew Hotch wouldn't let me…so I waited….and I hate this

I hate the deceit but it's getting easier….and I hate that too. It used to be that he would have been the last person ever I would have been untruthful to, and if I was I knew he would see right through me. Now though, because I was comfortable with this…this whatever it is…relationship? Now I am finding it easier.

Part of the problem……I have spent a lot of my time living and being around the biggest liar on the planet. The words fell out of Floyd's mouth as though he didn't even know he was telling untruths and a lot of the time would know….some of the time I wouldn't….but it is all practice isn't it?

I waited until I could hear the steady heavy breaths coming from Aaron and then carefully moved his arm from around me…protectively holding me…keeping me safe… I roll carefully off the bed and stand looking at him. I have feelings…I have such deep feelings for him…but there is something missing and I'm not sure what it is.

Walking quickly to the lounge I raid his drinks cabinet.

The spirits have gone…not a drop…either I drank it all previously or he has moved it…but there is a bottle of red wine so I pick it up and grab the cork screw thing…

…………..I stomach is turning in knots at the thought of drinking this……..My mouth is watering and my hands are shaking…and the smell…that divine smell….I look at the glasses and then at the bottle and just raise it to my mouth and take a long deep swig.

"I'm sorry Aaron." I say to myself.

"Then why do it?"

Oh god….I turn and he is there in the doorway watching me.

"Aaron." I am still holding the bottle in my hand…and I am beginning to shake now…and this is a familiar feeling…I know only too well what this is….I watch him walk towards me and I am rooted to the spot. My stomach clenches and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms stand up and it's as his hand reaches out for mine that I finally am able to move. I crouch down and drop the bottle on the floor and wrap my arms around my head and wait for the kicking to start and the shaking has reached a point now that I am finding it hard to balance and I need him to just get it over with….I need him to do it so I can crawl away and mend.

I feel a hand touch my head…and I flinch away.

"Spencer? Please...look at me."

But I keep my head down. I move one hand and rest it on the floor…I don't want to fall over…I don't want to show that much fear.

"I'm sorry." I say again…and I keep my head down.

But the kicks don't start. I feel a hand pulling my arm away from my head and a hand resting under my chin and he slowly lifts my head so I am looking directly into this dark eyes….and again I flinch back from them, but only slightly.

"It's OK Spencer…I'm not going to do anything." And I think he is looking sad. Pity? I don't know…I really don't know….I am so confused now. "Let's go sit on the couch." And he is standing up again from his crouching position and pulling me to my feet with his hand in mine. I reach out and grab the bottle of wine which has spilt onto the floor. I can smell the sweet smell of grapes and berries and it makes me want to cry. I walk and then sit on the couch…but I can't look at Hotch.

I don't want to look at him…I don't want to see that pity. I don't want to feel the shame…if I don't look at him…I don't have to accept it. I hold tightly onto the bottle and wish so much I was alone to just drink and let it all go away.

"I would never hurt you Spencer – you do know that don't you?"

And they are words I have been hearing since I was about twelve. And usually they come just before or just after a beating. I still don't look at him…I can't. "I thought you were sleeping…I didn't mean to wake you." I mutter into the corner of the room…I pull my legs up onto the couch and lean onto the big upholstered arm…away from Hotch.

"I'm a light sleeper."

"I'm sorry." I say again…and I don't know why I am sorry...I just am…about everything…from start to finish…for my whole existence… "I will stay in my own bed in future." And I hear a shuddering sigh. "I can't be what you want Hotch. I'm not this delicate pure flower you want me to be. I can't be that. I don't want to stay in at night and watch movies and eat pizza…I don't want to go for walks in the country and throw sticks for the dogs….."

and there is something else I don't want but I can't tell him that….I can't, because the rest we might be able to change…maybe…but Jack? I would never ask.

"I'm not asking for anything from you Spencer….I don't want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with." And as he talks I swig from the bottle. "I just want to protect you…love you." And his hand is touching me but this time I don't flinch back. "And if you need a drink…at least use a glass."

I reach out and put the bottle down. "I just needed a drink."

"And the medication you are on specifies no alcohol. You will end up back in hospital."

And I chew on my bottom lip because I don't want to do that.

……………..I stand up and start to pace the room… "I don't want to be either….I think…I sure I want to be here…but….this," I gesture around the room. "I need to adjust to it. This isn't my home Hotch. It's yours and it's lovely and I will happily share it with you but I want my things here too…if you want this…if you want to share our lives."

-o-o-o-

I watched him cowering like an animal on the floor…curling up defensively on the couch….I listen to him telling me I cant give him what he wants…and now he is saying he wants to share his life with me. I know I can't push him…I want things to come naturally. I don't want rushed decisions but I can see Spencer doesn't know what he wants.

Now I watch him pacing the room…saying he wants to share his life with me, but he doesn't how can he possibly when he is in love with someone else.

"And where does Floyd fit into this plan?" Yes I am cross. He says one thing and next breath something else. I watch him stop in his tracks and turn to look at me.

"What has he to do with us?"

"Come and sit down and talk to me about him…tell me what you did…how you had fun…what he looks like. I'm interested. I need to weigh up my competition. He is just looking at me…his mouth slightly open that damned innocent look on his face and I want to grab him and bury my face into his hair and feel him under my hands and against my body.

"I don't want to sit down Hotch….I want to pace…I want to…I want…." And he sits on the edge of the coffee table. "More…really …I don't want to talk about him."

I reach over and place hand gently on his knee. "I'm a profiler Spencer. I know you have feelings for him…"

"I don't!" and he cuts me off and puts a hand over mine…. "Not really – I don't think so….he's gone." And Reid does and little shrug. "He – I - we – we had a falling out…the day before the weekend thing…he met someone else. It's finished."

And now I have to talk about the thing he mentioned and then clammed up about. "And the rape? That was him?"

Now I watch in surprise as he slowly shakes his head. "Look…I shouldn't have said anything. Besides I probably asked for it you know? Brought it on myself."

And I am standing…and I feel so damned cross and sad and infuriated and hurt and I want to grab him and shake him. "That is what rape victims say Spencer…it wasn't your fault."

But he looks up at me with big round hazel eyes. "Oh I think it was."

"Was it Floyd?

-o-o-o-

Ah the question…and I can answer this two ways…truthfully. _'No it was Morgan.´ _or I can lie and stop being questioned and let it die where it is. "Yes." There…done. I hammer the nail in the coffin of the only person I really ever loved fully and completely and unconditionally. I know what he is…I know! I know what he does…and that makes me as bad as him…I am an accomplice every time I put his blood soaked clothes in the laundry and don't even think twice about it.

All the times I have stood in the bathroom with him and sponged someone else's blood off his drugged out drunken face.

All the times I have eaten his suspect food…though deep down I know he would never give me something to eat which I shouldn't he does tease me with the thought. I know…I really do know I am – was living with probably the most evil being on the planet.

………….and all of that would put me behind bars as quickly as it would him.

And so this person I have been protecting all my adult life I am now accusing of something he didn't do…

Ok he did do…but not that night and I am sure he would be back by now if he was going to…I'm sure….but that feeling I used to have that he was here inside of me…part of my soul…my spirit…it's gone.

He knew I enjoyed that time with Morgan. He knew because he knows me too well – and by doing that I hurt him…and he hurt me back then, and now….I've lost him.

I look over at Aaron who is looking right back at me. "When you are ready to tell me the truth you know where to find me." And I watch as he walks away from me…

"Please Aaron…please…I can't tell you." And he stops and turns and nods at me… but he looks sad. "Are you coming back to bed or are you going to try to kill yourself in the lounge again?" and I look at the bottle and look at him and put it down and walk over to him and kiss in gently on his lips…and his arms are around me gently…and his fingers are on my back and running up over my spine and he kisses me deeply and gently and lovingly…

And I know he loves me.

But

Where is the danger? Where is the excitement in knowing you will always be safe?

-o-o-o-

The place was derelict. The home of drunks and junkies and homeless and it occurred to me that I could go home, but I couldn't face it. Not seeing those remnants of Spencer hanging around still…I checked the account and bills were still being paid out of the money I set up, so it was still there…waiting…and empty…and I didn't want to go there…so I am here. The land of the nobodies. The scum and filth…

I don't have a way to prove who I am…and I don't know if I want to do that anyway…so I cant get money from the bank…I nicked some…pockets here and there…wallets from the careless and stupid…those who don't deserve this anyway.

I have alcohol now…a couple of bottles of gin….and I have the coke I nicked from the kid…and now in my paper bag….yep….a damned paper bag I have syringes and phials of something strong and harmful and so if I paid all this money for this shit I don't want to metabolise it.

So I have to turn off my defences and that in it self is dangerous. It leaves me vulnerable….but hey…where is the fun if there is no danger? I told Spence that enough. Spence…I have to go and see that Hotchner….I have to hand over the letter and get him to read it over the body. It has to be done or I will be trapped here forever.

For now I am in an abandoned shop door way sitting on a week old newspaper and I am going to shoot up and snort and get pissed and wake up in the morning with nothing but a head ache…but for now…for a little while I will stop that pain inside where Spencer used to be…that horrible gaping hole in my soul….

And I pull the letter out of its little home and read it again and it's all good. It's what I want and needed to say…It's what I should have said a long time ago and couldn't cos unless I'm screwing or eating or killing I'm no good at fuck all..

…………..feeling sorry for myself now..

think I'll shut up…so here I am curling up on my news paper my coke up my nose my heroin racing through my veins….so excuse me…..I need to fly.

……………………Morning brings my nose bleed and my headache…and my realisation that life is shit….I need a drink but my money is again gone……so I have to sell my arse for a few bucks…I know where to go…I know all the best places for this dirty little game and I know all the worst…and in the state I am in I think I will go for the worst….

Fags are renowned for their cleanliness…well at least the ones I will fuck and give my arse to…and I don't think I am in the state to get much from my old haunts….so I head for the park…the men's restrooms…a fine place to get a few bucks and it will be me doing all the hard work….

I don't have to wait long….the guy is big…in lots of ways and I stand and watch him have a piss and then smile a lovely big tooth filled smile at him and then wipe the back of my hand over my mouth…Talk about desperate….I might be a bit run down right now…but I am still pretty good looking…Cant remember what he looked like…spent my time on my knees which his hands on the back of my head….I serviced him well….then he made me an offer….return job…as in I can have his arse…or he will give me a few buck for the blow.

I took his arse…

Which is stupid…I know…I was meant to be getting money…but he had such a fine backside….

"I need cash for drink." I tell him…but he leaves….and I think….well Floyd Flanders…you continue to amaze me on what a complete fuck up you are.

It eventually takes me four hours to get enough money to be able to say I have enough to last the day and night….that's a lot of cock in a short space of time…and now I just want to go and get sloshed.

-o-o-o-

The nurse arrives on time…and Spencer smiles at her and sits on the couch and turns on the television.

"I'm off then." I walk over to him and he looks up at me and frowns.

"Really the nurse isn't necessary."

"Yes she is…Don't argue with me on this because you will not win…You didn't see what happened before Spencer…If you had been alone I would have lost you."

He nods at me and runs his hand down my leg. "Be careful at work."

And I bend down and we kiss deeply and lovingly a long goodbye. "I will bring food in with me ok?"

He nods and settles back watching the TV.

This is good…this is comfortable and safe and loving…I just hope it stays like this.

-o-o-o-

He kissed me good bye….and he left….

And I want to curl up into a ball and cry….but the nurse is there…so I get up and walk to my room. "I'm taking an hour or so nap." And she nods and sits on the couch where I had been.

I am meant to take two pills in the morning…and I haven't yet…so after closing and locking my bedroom door I take the pills and tip them out onto my hand….two…four…eight….how many to take away the pain and guilt and let me sleep?

I tip them out onto the bedside table and look at them and then scoop some into my hand and palm them into my mouth…the capsules go down easily…and with a quick drink of the water in the glass next to them, I lay down and now I allow myself the tears.

* * *


	23. Chapter Pain

Chapter 23

Pain

* * *

I am healing well…

I sleep a lot and Aaron worries a lot but he doesn't need to.

I am healing well.

At least my body is and there have been no more scares like before and so I don't have the baby sitter/nurse here anymore…not that she did much. I think it was for Hotch's peace of mind more than my safety.

I need to exercise…and Aaron suggested a bike thing in the garage…and I suggested I go for a walk every day. I won that decision, but I don't think he is happy about it.

He is so kind and gentle and loving…

And this is the problem. I'm not used to it. I am used to being the survivor and not knowing what is going to happen next. I stand in front of the big mirror in my room in just my boxers and look at my body. I have scars…bullet holes in my skin…and I have a nasty jagged rip in my chest…but that's it. No other marks and it looks strange. No bruises or bite marks or finger marks on my skin. I can also see that I am too thin again…Hotch keeps saying….

"Spencer…are you sure you are alright?"

But I am…most of the time.

I am going to go for a walk…and I will go to the chemist again and pick up my script for my pain killers.

"Yes Doctor – I still need them."

And he gives me a funny look, but never asks if it is for the pain I need them. He is a quack. He is a dreadful doctor….in fill out the script and then out…he doesn't care as long as I hand over the money. My appointment at the other doctor is somewhat different. There I don't get my scripts anymore…he was concerned about the amount I was requesting…and I wondered if he had ever been in the sort of pain I am in. And I doubt it.

Brown cords and a beige shirt under a jacket. It looks cold out. The weather is definitely taking a turn for the worse.

I lock up and take my walk to the small row of shops about half a mile away. There is that funny smell in the air…like it might snow. But the sky is clear blue and bright. Stuffing my hands into my jacket pockets I take my shortish walk to get my pills…my drug of choice?

They are just pain killers…nothing to get alarmed about…

So why haven't I told Hotch….

There is a nasty tightness in my chest by the time the shops are in view and along the side of the road there is a bench at a bus stop…and so for a while I sit. My body is having a problem with the cold air – and it hurts….and it feels constricting…so I rest my head back and close my eyes and start counting.

And I get to fifty before the feeling finally subsided…and that number suddenly brings back memories long – very long forgotten memories and they make me shudder and then the fill me with a deep sadness. The bus pulls up next to the stop and the doors hiss open and I sit and look up a the driver sitting looking expectantly at me but I just shake my head and the doors judder closed again and it pulls out and disappears down the road.

The chemist is small. I don't pick up my other scripts from here…but this guy knows me now and he will make sure he has enough in to full fill my needs. I hand over my bit of paper and he nods and hands over a white pharmacy bag with a bottle of pills and without even exchanging a word I turn to leave.

The walk back home is as uneventful as the journey out and by the time I can see Hotch's – our? Place I and out of breath and sweating…but the pain hasn't returned…That's good…that's very good. But then again the bag of pills makes me feel guilty. Then again…my logic is trying to tell me…I need them…that is why there is no pain.

This is why my mind is a million miles away as I walk back up the path to the front door…That is why as I put the key in the lock I am looking at the bag of pills in my hand and not what I am doing.

I walk in to be greeted by something hitting me hard on the back of the head….

The bag in my hand falls to the floor as my knees give way and somewhere in the back of my mind I can feel I am being dragged forward and I hear the door slamming.

Then it starts…

And at first I think it's Floyd…The kicking.

And it takes all the breath out of my lungs and I feel boots scraping along my spine as I try to crawl away and the assault continues. I don't seem to be able to hear anything…all I can hear is my heart thumping too fast and the sound of me trying to gain my breath…but I can't…he harder I try the harder they kick and the harder it is to breathe.

I cant remember it stopping…I don't know how long it continued for but now I am alone I think…and I am in the kitchen curled up in the corner….I carefully open my eyes and look around but the light is too strong. I think maybe I should phone Aaron…but I really don't think I can move yet. I can taste blood in my mouth and I cough and I taste more.

It hurts.

It hurts a lot.

And I like it.

I close my eyes again and let my body take me somewhere warm and safe.

I know when I am ready I will wake up again.

-o-o-o-

I know when I pull up outside the house that something is wrong. It is in total darkness. Spencer always has a light on somewhere in the house. The drapes haven't been closed and the porch light is off too. It has been raining lightly and the footpath to the front door is slick with rain. I have my black wool overcoat on. It really did start off cold this morning and I can feel that icy sharp feel to the air.

So I am standing in front of my house and I am rubbing cold hands together and I wonder if he has left. Just got up and gone home – but I don't think he has. Something just feels very wrong…and that nasty twisting feeling is starting in my stomach. In one hand I have my door key and the fingers of my left hand reach up and touch the blue painted front door. What am I expecting? Some warning in Morse Code? I really don't know what to expect but there is nothing. I transfer my key over to my left hand and pull my side arm.

I don't know what I expected when I walked in…but the small puddle of blood on the floor wasn't it. The drag marks weren't it either. I just stand and listen. I listen out for any movement….but the house is stone silent and deathly cold. I put my key back in my pocket and pull out my flashlight and shine it around the room. I don't see how the television is smashed or how the lamp is broken in bits on the floor. I don't even see how Spencer's few books he has here have been ripped and thrown around the room…What I see is a sickening blood trail…what I see is smears on the floor heading out towards the kitchen…and a pharmacy bag discarded on the floor.

"Spencer!"

And there is no answer and so I start to walk quickly but careful to avoid the splatters…oh god…it looked like he was crawling or moving away and was being attacked…the thought makes my blood run cold. Still shining the flashlight around I see blood spots and smears leading me to the kitchen.

"Spencer?" Now my voice is quieter…the kitchen is in darkness and at first I don't see him but he is there curled up with his hands over his head rocking slowly back and forth. And now I move quickly. "Spencer!" and I reach out and carefully touch his hand which is clutching onto his own hair. "Spencer it's me. It's Aaron." And he moves and turns and I can see blood soaked into the back of his shirt and over his arms…and dribbling from his mouth. "My god ...what the hell happened? Who did this?"

And he just looks up at me and blinks. "I'm fine." He says… "Could do with a painkiller and – erm – a drink."

I sit on the floor with him and wrap my arms gently around him and pull him close and I can feel him relax against me and I can smell his sweat and blood. "You are not fine…I need to get you checked out…someone hit you pretty damned hard."

And he squishes in harder to me. "I'll be alright Aaron…don't fuss please."

I don't understand. I don't know how he can be thinking like this. "I need to call the medics and someone out to check the crime scene." I feel him nodding.

"Can you help me back to my room Hotch?"

My lounge has been wrecked but the rest of the place has been left. Nothing was taken…and no message left. Then I look at Reid curled up on his bed with his pot of pills on the shelf and wonder if he was the message. The detective wants to talk to Spencer who tells them that he saw nothing…he was attacked from behind…that he was knocked down and dragged for a while…then he crawled away from them as they carried on kicking. They said nothing. He has nothing to tell them. Except that they were there waiting for him.

It feels like people are there forever. Derek comes over and scans the mess and advises on alarm systems…which I tell him I have and I wonder if Spencer set it. Emily comes over and offers to help clean up, but I tell her not to. I will call someone in t do it tomorrow. Dave comes over with Indian and some beers and we sit amongst the carnage and try to work out who would do this….and I wonder if it has anything to do with the case we are working on.

Finally the house is holding just Spencer and I…I go to check on him before having a quick shower to get rid of the smells of he day and then I go and check on him again. He is breathing heavily but unevenly and I worry. I worry so much about him…I don't want to lose him…I don't know what I would do if I lost him now.

I can see the pill bottle has been opened…and I can see it's a different brand to he used to get. I pick them up and look…they are stronger…He really needs to talk to the doctor about this. I am worried that he takes so many of these damned things. But now isn't the time. I stroke his hair gently…he has blood matted into the back of his head and I so wish he had gone to the hospital…but he was insistent.

I go to my own room and leave the door's open so I can hear if he calls out. I pull on a fresh pair of boxers and slide under the covers of my bed.

Sleep came quickly. I don't remember laying there thinking…I just remember putting my head on the pillow and then….

"Aaron?" A hand touching my arm. I open my eyes and Spencer is standing by my bed. He is still blood smeared and dirty but he is standing in just his underwear with his arms crossed tightly around his chest.

-o-o-o-

I suddenly realised when I woke up…I realised what I wanted and what I needed so much. I slid out of bed and walked to Aaron's room…he was sleeping soundly and so I went to his cupboard and pulled out a hand full of his ties from the back…the ones he doesn't wear anymore. Then I walk to his bed and stand looking at him for a while and I bite on my bottom lip and then reach over and put my hand on his arm. "Aaron?" and then I cross my arms and hug myself.

He opens his eyes and looks up at me and I can see he isn't happy with how I look…and he looks confused. "I was wondering…"

And Hotch pushes up onto his elbows and reaches over and pulls my arm away from my chest. I see him looking at what I have in my hand. I look down at the ties and to Aaron and to the bed. "I was wondering if I could stay with you tonight."

Aaron nods at me. "Of course Spencer…you don't have to be so formal about it…but this?" and he touches his ties. "What is this?"

I swallow and close my eyes and bite on my bottom lip and then walk about the bed and kneel on the space behind Hotch. "I was wondering… If you would tie me up."

The shock is on his face before he can stop it. I know immediately I shouldn't have said anything. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry – I'll go."

"Don't – no Spencer don't go. I'm not going to tie you up though…just stay here with me…keep each other warm." And I am shaking my head and backing away.

"That's not what I want though. I didn't realise it until today…then this happened." I climb back off the bed but leave the ties behind. "And I remembered. I remembered so much." I turn and walk away and I am through his door before he puts a hand on my back.

"Remembered what?" He sounds sad…and I am getting so tired of this walking on egg shells I seem to have to do around him recently…its almost as though if I say or do the wrong thing he will explode. I turn to look at him.

"How I like to make love to."

"By being tied up? By being abused? That's not love."

I rub at my nose and look at him. "It is how I like it Aaron."

"You like to be abused?"

"I just asked you to tie me up Hotch, not abuse me." I begin to turn from him but a hand on my shoulder spins me back to face.

"And next? What is next? Do you forget all the times I saw you in the locker room…do you think I didn't see the marks all over you body? Do you think I'm blind?"

"No Hotch…I don't."

"You let that creep Flanders hit and abuse you and rape you and you won't let me hold you and comfort you?"

and it happened just like that. I don't know how I managed it to be honest…but my fist made contact with his mouth and I knocked him back against the wall. "Don't you ever talk about him like that…You have no idea Hotch…you have not the first clue as to what went on." His hand is to his mouth and he is looking completely shocked. I walk towards him still shouting…trying to get rid of this feeling inside of me. "He loved me…He would die for me Aaron…Would you?" And I am pushing him with my hand on his chest. "I loved him…don't ever talk about him like that again!"

He moves quickly out of my way seeing my anger now and not sure how to deal with it.

"He is gone Spencer….you need to try to move on."

"Why? Why do I need to move on…I need to mourn him Hotch…I need to be allowed to grieve for him without feeling that I am being pitied. It was the life I chose…no one forced it on me."

"I understand…really I understand Spencer…I'm sorry…."

"NO! No you're not sorry." And I walk by him and into his bed room…. "Look…look what is this?" And I pick up a picture of Jack. "I see this when you are screwing me Hotch…I can see your son looking at me….have you moved on? Yes you've moved from Haley to my arse….but you still have a place in your heart for her." I pull open his top drawer and take out the photo of Haley he keeps there. "This! This is moving on?" I wave the photos at him and he is getting closer and trying to take them from me.

"Calm down…calm down Reid."

So I throw them…The one of Haley falls on the floor by the window…the one of Jack smashes against the wall.

And it happens.

He does what all men do to me in the end. They break their promises…they go back on their word…they hurt me…mentally or physically and Hotch's fist makes contact with my jaw and knocks me to the floor.

And it feels so good.

-o-o-o-

I'm whoring regularly in the park now….I don't get much…I offer my arse…I offer my cock…I offer my mouth…Lots of over fed over paid business men….I'm trying to behave. I am still working out what to do. I seem to have lost the card with Prentiss' number on it. I need to find out where Hotchner is. But not yet…I don't feel ready.

It is so damned cold. I am standing under a tree and if I could I would shiver….but I turned that ability off….along with my metabolising and I don't feel too well today…I'm sure I caught something…but not sure what…some kind of cock rot…or arse lesions…I will go and get some nurse to check it out.

Just enough money for a few drinks tonight.

It doesn't look like I'll get anyone else tonight so I walk to the bar just down the road from the shop doorway I have claimed and order my usual gin or two…and it's not enough…I need more but my hands shake too much now…and I cant pick the pockets….A trip to the restrooms gives me the chance to chuck up in the bowl…and wash my face in the cold tap water. Then I look up at my face. I look ill. I've lost weight…that's obvious. I have sores appearing around my nose and at he corners of my mouth….and I stand and just look at myself for a while…

"Shit…this is what it's come down to Floyd?" And I pick at my teeth with my fingernails…the tiny bar or pink soap from next to the taps – I pick it up and write in my fancy writing on the mirror…backwards… _Where are you?_

* * *


	24. Chapter 24 Pain and Pleasure

Chapter 24

Pain and Pleasure

* * *

What have I done?

I look at my hand and at Reid on the floor…I hit him…

"Reid."

And he looks up at me and gives me a strange half smile…almost like a satisfied smirk. Then he puts his hand to his chin and runs those long fingers over where I just hit him…and I didn't pull that punch either…I wanted to hurt him…and

…………………and he wanted me to hurt him.

"What was that all about?!" I back away as Spencer starts to get up off the floor. "You think this is a game? You find this amusing?"

And he is shaking his head at me. "You said you would never hurt me."

His words cut through me and I want to be sick. "You played me Reid…you – this – all of this – was to get me to hit you?"

"You could have just tied me up Hotch…I would have been happy with that."

I don't believe what I am hearing…that sweet innocent Reid? That man with the almost childlike quality I love so much…the smell of soap…all of this…it's a lie. "What is wrong with you? Why do you need this – this….why?"

"because I need it…because I've always had it. With pleasure here is always pain Hotch…you know that."

I am walking in circles around the room trying to make sense of it all. "No Reid…no I don't know that."

"Why do you think I do some of the stuff I do? Why do you think I put myself at risk? Why? Because it fills me…makes me feel…that time…back at the hospital…when you kicked me…That was divine Hotch! I lived off that pain for weeks."

"You said I didn't hurt you."

And he goes and sits on the bed and picks up a red tie and starts fiddling with it. "I lied."

"This is insanity! Why pull me into this Spencer…I don't want to hurt you. You know I don't want to hurt you."

He is winding the tie around his fingers but looking up at me. "But you did…you did hit me Hotch…Like I knew you would…because you are all the same. Would you have hit Morgan? Would you have hit Emily or JJ?"

"No…because they wouldn't have behaved like a spoilt school child."

I watch as he stands and drops the tie to the floor. "Are you going to send me to my room now? Ground me?" He walks over towards me. "I really thought you would understand." And now he is walking past me and out to the corridor. "I'll go back to my own place in the morning."

And my heart is pounding in my chest with panic. I can't lose him over this. I won't let this one incident be the end. "Spencer." He stops and turns around to look at me. "We will talk about this in the morning….I really don't know what to think right now." He nods at me and turns again. "And Spencer…" I want him to stop and look at me…but he keeps walking to his room. "I do love you. You know that don't you?"

And I see him nodding.

I let him go and walk to the kitchen…I need a hot coffee…I need to think this over.

Obviously he is desperate for attention. That is obvious but he is going about it in the wrong way. I will be patient with him….I will help him through this and if he needs to mourn and grieve I will help him through that too. I don't know if he is aware of how much I need to be with him…and how ashamed I am that I raised my hand to him.

I could sort out bereavement counselling for him…maybe that is where to start. I stand and drink the coffee and wish I could reach him myself…but he is so hurt and angry I want to be the comforter and healer…I don't want to come across as the punisher here. That isn't the role I expected to take…and isn't the one I intend to take. I just don't know right now how to help him through this apart from the counselling. Tomorrow…Tomorrow I will talk to him…now is not a good time.

He is right. He is right about Haley and Jack. I also need to move on and this is what I am trying to do…But Jack is my son. I will move his photo to the lounge. My trashed lounge and I will put the photo of Haley somewhere where I don't see it every day.

Again I wonder. Spencer has no reminders of Floyd and I wonder how difficult that must be for him.

-o-o-o-

I'm not happy. But if this is what I need to do to at least try to survive until I have made my decision then this is what I will do.

First stop soup kitchen.

I don't know when I last ate. And this food is crap…

I've not been hunting.

I don't feel that I have the upper hand anymore….I'm shaking and diseased and I feel like I am dying…but I need to keep going for a bit longer. I am given meat and vegetables and some green jelly stuff and try to find a place away from the bums…but seems they want to sit away from me anyway so it's not proving to be a problem. A small snarl quickly clears an area for me. And it is when I am here one day that he comes over and sits opposite me.

"I see you hear a lot."

I look up and see a bloke in a thick over coat and a hat and scarf….Myself…I am still in just my shirt.

"That may be on account that I come here a lot."

He smiles at me. "I was just wondering if you needed to earn some money. So you can at least get a bed in a hostel."

"I don't need no fucking bed in a stinking hostel and I don't need your sodding charity."

"Not charity…you will have to work for your bed."

I ignore him and keep sticking tiny bits of food in my mouth. I'm eating like a real gent…with my fingers.

"Just handing out things on the street and collecting money. Then you bring it back to me…I give you a cut and you get a room and some spare change. How does it sound?"

"Sounds like I'd get more money giving blow jobs….now fuck off and leave me alone." He is really getting on my tits now.

"I can get you the medical attention you need. It will be a step forward. Off the streets and a clean warm place to sleep at night."

"I don't need medical attention mister…I think you better go before I break your sodding neck."

He nods at me now and slides a bit of paper across the table at me. "Can you read?"

I glance down at the paper and absorb the information. The names of hostels and clinics and free rehab centres. "I don't need this." And I slide it back…. "I don't need a bed and I don't need a fucking STD clinic. Now fuck off and insult someone else."

He gets up but leaves the flyer behind. "In case you change your mind."

I leave a short time later to discover it is starting to snow. I stand in my rotting shirt sleeves and wonder what I need more….a drink or a jacket….

You see….to get the pleasure from the alcohol and drugs I need to stop my body metabolising the chemicals…and when I do that I start to feel the temperature changes.

I walk around the corner and get out of the rain and lean with my back to the wall and my hands in my pockets and think of Spencer. I think of how he is slowly rotting in the ground somewhere in an unknown location and how I could have helped him if they hadn't pulled me over that morning on the bike….how the last thing I did to him was to fuck someone else in his bed…and though that is still very satisfying to my sprit …I would have….should have…said what I have written down….and my fingers play against the condom in my pocket and the thought that that is the only condom I've ever used is a bit amusing.

I stay in the shelter of this dark stinking place for about an hour trying to decide what to do.

I know…I have to find Hotchner…but to do that I need to see that Prentiss person again…and I'm not ready…I don't want to do that. I need to find another way of doing it. But my head isn't able to get things straight and my hunting is crapped out.

Slowly I move away…I need to find something to wear…I am feeling the cold real bad now…My feet are going numb….my hands are frozen even though they are stuffed in my pocket and my damp clothing isn't helping any…

With my head down against the wind and sleet which is now being blasted down my shaded corner…I am not concentrating….my hunting instincts are gone…I don't hear or see a thing until it's way too late.

-o-o-o-

He is awake before I am and when I come out of my bed room he is exiting the bathroom. He stands for a second and just looks at me.

"Hotch."

I can see a bruise on his chin and it turns my stomach to think I did that to him.

"Spencer I have to get to work. We need to talk about what happened last night." And I walk towards him and run my hand over his arm which is clothed in a bathrobe. "Do you want to go out tonight? For a meal? Watch a movie?" and I don't know what to do…he just blinks at me and shakes his head slowly.

"No Hotch I don't want to go out for a meal or watch a movie." And he crosses his arms defensively around himself…and he is withdrawing from me…and I don't know how to get him back again.

"Just say what you want…we will do it."

"I don't really want to do anything with you Hotch. I will go out alone."

So I try to pull him back…physically now…with both of my hand on his shoulders I pull him towards me and I step in closer to him…and he doesn't resist it…but at the same time he doesn't respond. I wrap my arms around him and finally feel his hands dropping to his sides. I put one hand on the small of his back and the other between his shoulder blades and I press my face into his hair.

"I would do anything for you Spencer. You know I would….but please never ask me to hurt you again. I can't do that."

"Evidently." He mutters back…but his hands are now tentatively resting on my back in return.

"I want to talk to you about this later…Will you be ok on your own? I don't mean that in a patronising way Spencer…I mean…is there enough here to entertain you?"

"Just go to work…and be safe…I'll probably sleep most of the day."

"Call if you need me."

"I will…likewise…call if you miss me."

And a small kiss on the lips from Spencer to me makes my heart skip a beat.

"And I want you to consider bereavement counselling. To help with your loss."

And it was the wrong thing to say…the hands fall from my back and he pulls away from me. "Just leave that. I don't want to talk about it. He's not dead Hotch…he is still out there somewhere…and he will come back for me. One day."

-o-o-o-

I wait for him to go to work and then go back into the bathroom. I pull off my bathrobe and look at the fresh cuts on my arms. It feels good…it looks good. I run my fingers over the ridges and feel the slight stickiness from the blood seeping out. It's OK…really it's ok…I know Hotch won't every hit me again. It took too much to get him to do it that once. I will have to do this for a while…there are other things I can do.

Turning on the tap I stand and watch as the steam slowly fogs over the mirror and once ready I carefully write on the glass. _'I am here.'_

Next I walk to Hotch's room and look for the ties I had yesterday…He's but them all away so I just remove them again and walk to my own room where I close and lock my door and walk to the bed. I have to be careful….but I've done this many times with Floyd…I know how to do it now. I start off by tying my ankles to the headboard…then one hand. The other hand I also tie up but with a special loose knot…one I can tighten with my teeth once I am ready. Then I take a tie and tie it around my neck and pull tight. Maybe…four…or five…might have been more…I'm not sure…my eyes are already blurring…but the pills go back down my throat as I swallow and then I lay down…and pull the last tie tight….and I lay back and close my eyes and enjoy the experience.

-o-o-o-

When I wake up I am laying against the wall with a heavy covering of snow over my back…Something smacked the back of my head…I can feel it…I place my hand cautiously there and feel a wet sticky mess. Why the fuck would someone mug me? I don't have anything…I have nothing. Slowly I roll over onto my back and do a careful hand inspection of the rest of my body. I've taken a booting…my face has cuts and lumps on it…and I think I might have a broken rib…Bastards…what the hell was that for?

I push myself up to sit and realise that my boots are gone…Fabulous…about the only thing keeping me warm and the fucknuts took them. So I lean my back against the wall and pull my legs in tight and wonder what in hell's name I am going to do now. I will freeze to death out here and I haven't found Hotchner…and I'm not ready to find him…My hands which look like they've been stamped on slide into my pocket and rest there for a while….trying to keep them warm…and as the cold slowly dies back it dawns on me…

My pockets are empty.

My letter has gone.

The bastards took my letter for Spencer.

Quickly I am on my feet and scanning around the area…They wouldn't keep it….it was only of value to me. To anyone else it is rubbish….

For me it is my ability to die.

For Spencer the words I should have said a million times over long before now.

For whoever took it from me…a long and very painful death.

I crawl through the drifts of snow and search in the bins and behind the bins and after about two hours of searching I realise that if it is still here I will never find it…and if it was taken…then I am so fucked…so well and truly damned…

I kneel in the snow with my feet turning a funny colour and howl and scream…and finally beg…I beg for the return of my soul.

* * *


	25. Chapter 25 A Letter

Chapter 25

A Letter

* * *

The case is unpleasant.

Cleaners always are.

A lot of foot work needed to talk to the people who are potential targets and a lot of notes to be taken and collated and it's soul destroying.

During the morning I called Spencer once. He didn't pick up but that's fine. He said he was going to sleep.

I called again lunch time and she still didn't pick up, but there are always reasons for this…he could have been in the shower. Especially if he'd spent the morning sleeping off whatever went on the night before. Or maybe he had gone for his walk………….?

When I called in the afternoon and he still didn't pick up I decided to go home early.

"Dave." I stand in his door way and look at the pile of paperwork in front of him. "I need to go." He looks up at me and frowns. "I have to check on him Dave." And the frown stays on his face and so I enter his office and close the door behind me. "I need to talk…off the record." And the frown deepens as he picks up his pen and starts to tap it on the desk.

"I'm all ears. What's going on Aaron?"

Pacing the room doesn't seem to relieve the stress and so I sit down on the chair behind his desk. "I got in a fight with Spencer last night." And I can see that slightly amused expression on Dave's face appear.

"We all fight Aaron. You are Haley fought didn't you?" I could see him think about what he just said.

"No Dave…I mean a fight. Spencer hit me…not hard…but enough for me to feel it…and he – provoked me. I hit him back." And now the amused expression was gone. "I knocked him off his feet Dave. I still can't believe I did it. He wanted me to. He was glad I did it."

"Aaron – you are a grown man…and a damned good profiler…you know…you must know what this is about and you must know that this 'relationship'" he gestured with his fingers. "Has to end now."

So I get up and start to pace again… "I need to help him. To get him help, but he won't accept it."

"And you can't force it on him Hotch. Go home and check on him…Call me later…but for god sake get out before he drags you down too. It's already started…when have you ever left work early because someone isn't answering the phone?"

I stop my pacing and look at him. "I don't want to lose him Dave."

He stands up and comes over to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Did you ever really have him?"

I pull up in my car and the wind in howling and the snow is starting again. It's going to be a cold night and I really hope that the atmosphere at home won't be as frosty as the one outside the car. I hate seeing the house in darkness. It bothers me…yesterday the same thing…and yesterday was bad.

In walk carefully to my front door…the path is icy and the wind is in my face. The key turns in the lock and I enter and dark house again. I turn on the light and look at the blood stain on the floor and at the remains of what was my lounge. Crime scene people left a coat of print dust over nearly ever surface. I need to get someone in to clean it up.

"Spencer?"

But this horrible silence just worries me.

Probably he has done what he said and gone home. He has his own place…There's nothing to stop him…and after last night…..

So I walk down the hallway to his room…and I knock on the door. "Spencer?" I tap lightly. He doesn't answer so I try the handle…the door is locked. "Spencer?" I knock louder, but there is nothing…no sound of movement…just a horrible cold silence….and now panic sets in…in a manly sort of way…I shoulder his door open and it pops open easily, and I am ready to rush in…but the sight in front of me holds me by the door.

He is laying on the bed with his hands and feet tied down. He is in his bathrobe and the sleeves have pushed down to his elbows. I can see deep raw cuts on his arms….His head is to the side looking away from the wall and he has been drooling…His eyes are closed….and I can see the gentle up and down rhythm of his breathing….

I spring into action…

"Spencer!" I kneel down next to him and quickly start to untie his hands from the bed posts….How in hell's name did this happen….why is someone picking on Spencer…what the hell is this all about. As I release his bonds and I roll him onto his side he makes a soft moaning sound.

"Spencer…can you hear me?" I pull my cell phone from my pocket. "I'll get the medics." But a hand reaches over and takes the phone from me.

"No don't." And I look at Spencer who sighs. "I'm fine Hotch…I don't need the medics." And he flips my phone shut.

"Reid…I need to call someone…who did this to you?"

I watch as he pushes up onto his elbows…my cell still held in his hands. "No one…I did it myself." He pulls the tie off from around his neck and I see deep red marks where it had been digging in.

Slowly I take my cell phone away from him and stand. "You did this? You tied yourself up?"

But he sits up properly then slides his legs over the side of the bed. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Understand?! How can I possibly understand when you don't talk to me? You don't explain it to me. Why this?" I grab his hand and push back his sleeves….but he just looks blankly at me. "Please Spencer I want to know what is going on in your head…I want to know what I can do to help you."

He pulls his arm from my grasp. "You can't help me. I don't want help. I don't need help! Why do you think I need help? Because I'm not a boring divorcee whose idea of fun is a meal out and a movie?"

As he walks from the room I follow…I know it has fallen apart….I know there is no love in Spencer for me…but still…still I desperately try to hold on to something. "Reid – I will do whatever you ask…just tell me what you need." And maybe that was the wrong thing to say. He turns and with that closed defensive pose of his he looks at me with the biggest most beautifully sad eyes I have ever seen.

"Aaron. I appreciate what you are saying, but you can't give me what I need and I'm not going to ask again. I'm going to pack my things and go home. I don't want to be here living under your rules…being judged by you. I wanted to share…but I can't. There are parts of my life I can't share…and you are not willing to participate in. Those things are part of me Hotch. I need them like you need to be held and loved in a gentle way. I can do that." And he walks to me and reaches out and holds my hands. "I know how to be loving and kind and gentle…but Hotch it's an act…it's not what I am. I don't want to hurt you…I never wanted to hurt you…but this isn't going to work." And he drops my hands and starts to turn.

"Wait…let me have my say too." And I watch with a sick feeling in my stomach as he turns to face me again. "I hit you Spencer…and I will regret that for the rest of my life. I would say sorry again but I don't think you want my apology. We have both lost things we love. We have both been hurt…Spencer we have both been raped. I want to help you. I want to be there for you…if you don't want to share my bed then I understand that…and to be brutally honest Reid, I also find it difficult as you are looking at my picture of Jack…I am looking at you and thinking you need Floyd not me. I think we can help each other…and I think we both need space…but please reconsider leaving….and please no more of these games…not when I'm not here."

And he nods.

"A support group." And I watch as he smiles at me and it fills me with so much joy my head spins…that big wide grin of his is so rare.

"So you will stay…And I promise no more offers of movies and meals out."

And he nods again. "I'll stay…and it really does depend on the movie."

-o-o-o-

This is my problem.

Rephrase.

This is one of my multitude of problems.

I have lost my letter.

And I can't write another.

If it is read aloud to the wrong person they are nulled …I am damned…and I will never be more than I am now…a drunk junky….my words are part of me you see…they need to be with me…I shouldn't have written them down. That was my error…

What I need to do now is to find where Spencer is…and I need to breathe the words over his body. I need to dig him up and breathe over him…and just hope his ashes aren't at sea or in the wind…though…if they are I can do the same thing from the point of origin…from where they stood and cast them…but…I really am hoping for a body. I need to see him…I need to touch him…and I need to breath my words over him.

My next thing to do is to visit the clinic…I'm sure have caught something and if I don't get it treated I wont be earning money…and no money means no booze or dope…and a bit of crack right now would just do the trick…but I don't even have any damned boots on my feet and don't like putting my hands in my empty pockets so I wrap them around myself and walk to the address I remember from the flyer…

It's about a mile away. Not too bad…not on a sunny day with the wind at your back…but today with the howling wind in my face and a fresh lot of snow it's a long fucking walk and I can say truthfully that I have no feeling in my feet now that I am standing in front of the locked doors.

They open again in the morning but for now they are securely locked. I run my fingers over the locks before remembering I am alone now. It's just me – so for now I curl up on the doorstep with my back to the wind and snow and close my eyes…and I think there is a good chance I would die. If I could….but fuck no…can't do that can I? I will just sink lower and become sicker and crippled and end up a fucking nothing…That's what happens when your soul is taken from you.

"Sir?" I hear a voice from somewhere and I pull my legs up tighter. "Sir?" And someone touches my shoulder. "You can't stay here…you'll die in the cold."

So I move so I can see who it is talking to me. A female….in her twenties…a bit too much makeup and lots of blond hair. "I'll be fine." And my voice comes out sorta chattery. "Really I'm waiting for the clinic to open."

And she is shaking her head. "That place wont be open for hours…Christ your feet! Where are you shoes? Did you get mugged?"

"Yeah…I got mugged."

"Did you go to the cops? They will give you a cell for the night you know."

"I think it will be for more than a night sweetheart…I need to be alone OK…now fuck off."

But she sits down next to me. "I've been there you know."

"Where?"

"Where you are."

I nod at her and smile. "You are where I am now too darling...what's your point?"

"No I mean down…real down…on the drugs and drink and shit…I've been there."

"Lovely to know – your understanding and support is very much appreciated. Now fuck off."

And she is rummaging around in her bag. "Let me give you some cash…go get a room and some boots." And she hands me a ten.

Shaking my head now. "I don't want your money girl…just leave me alone."

"Come on…just take it…it's easy money.

So I look at her and look at the money and look at my feet. "I'll not take it…but I'll earn it."

"How?" and she is grinning at me in a very sly fashion.

"I can screw you…or you can blow me…whatever. You say."

And the smile gets bigger. "You think that I want to have something which is probably disease ridden and unwashed in any damned orifice I have?"

She turned me down…the bitch turned me down. "Yes." I reply.

"Look Mister…You can have the money. I don't want your body parts touching mine until you're clean."

She's still holding the money out for me so I reach out and take it from her. "I won't repay this."

"I know."

"I probably get drugs with it."

"I know that too."

The money goes into my pocket. "I was thinking – maybe you could do something else for me?"

And she shakes her head. "No – I don't think so." And she stands up. "Just around the corner is the shelter I work in. Go there now…tell them Laura sent you. They'll fix you up for the night."

"I don't want fucking charity. I need you to do something for me."

"Nu hu…sorry mate…look…you go and do what I said…if you are there in the morning we can talk." And she's walking away from me. "See you tomorrow." And gone.

-o-o-o-

He is desperate to help me.

I know he is.

But I don't know that he can…we sit in the trashed lounge and he is on the couch and I am in the arm chair all squished up and looking at him…and he is looking back. We need to talk.

"I need to get a new job." It seemed like a good place to start. "I have my apartment I need to pay for still…and my wages at the BAU are going to stop."

Hotch nods at me…and I can see a deep sadness behind his eyes. "What sort of thing do you think you want to do?"

"I was doing what I wanted to do Hotch. Is there anything else?" I shrug.

"I'm sorry."

"I can write papers." And I shrug again.

"I can see you working in a candy store."

And I frown at him. "Pardon?"

"Standing all day surrounded by candy bars and soda. I can see that." He smiles at me.

"Hardly going to keep my brain active doing that." I'm confused by this statement.

"No…maybe not….but you'd look cute."

"Oh. You were joking?"

And again it is lost on me completely.

"Only half joking…You would look cute…that bit is true."

I grin at him and sip at my coffee. Then he talks again.

"So Spencer...you said you had a falling out with Floyd." I look at him and nod. "Tell me what happened. So I can try to understand. I know he hurt you. Emotionally hurt you and that is why you had been drinking…I need you to tell me the rest."

I take my glasses off and clean the mist off them that the coffee has created and sigh. "I'll start at the beginning…and don't interrupt me…let me tell it and then you can ask me questions."

"Fire away Spencer." He leans back in a semi relaxed position…but I can see by his hands that he is as stressed as I am.

"In the locker room that Friday…Derek was there…he raped me and I partially enjoyed it. I don't think he expected me to enjoy it, but then people don't expect me to enjoy pain…So I felt bad…I knew I should have fought back a bit more…even though he would have taken my arse if he really wanted to…and he did…so I went for a drink and I drank too much and came home a bit…jolly? If that is the right word…So Floyd can smell it on me…he knows what's happened…and so he knows I didn't fight back…he can see the marks on me are not from fighting…if you get me….and so for payback he goes out and brings a friend home with him…I know him too…He's a friend of both…anyway…he drags me from my bed and sleeps…well not much sleeping going on…but he's there with Ardal."

Hotch is leaning forward now. "Derek raped you?"

"I went back for more…I went to his place and made a move on him….but he told me to leave."

"Why the hell didn't you report this?"

I make myself smaller. "How could I? You didn't know about Floyd…you wouldn't have believed me…who would believe that Derek raped me?" drinking more coffee... "And anyway I enjoyed it. He would have said it was consensual. How could I ever prove it?"

"I would have believed you Spencer."

"Well it happened a long time ago now…it's in the past. I'm moving on as you said I should. He's not coming back and I don't know…I really don't know if I want him back after all this time…not even a letter…Hotch…not even a letter."

* * *


	26. Chapter 26 More Pain

Chapter 26

More Pain

* * *

So

Here I am standing here in this shitty hole talking to a damned hippy behind a counter. I slap the ten on the counter.

"Laura sent me."

And he just stares are me.

"Laura sent me." Tapping the ten. "Said I could get a room."

"I'm surprised." He slips the money off the counter and puts it into a small locked box.

"I'm cold. What's your point?"

"She sends a lot of people here. Not many make it. She called…said to expect you, but you know usually they take the money and get drugs."

I nod.

"Well you see I need boots. Someone mugged me for my prison issue foot ware and a used condom."

He stands up, leans over the counter and looks down at my black and blue dirty feet.

"Come with me." And with a sigh he lifts the hatch thing whatever the hell it is called and leads me out to another room…This room looks like a good will store…which in a way I guess it is. There are second hand clothes and boots piled up. "Ten bucks gets you a top…tail…and boots. Help yourself. Then come back out and find me."

I stand and look at the place and frown. "I don't need top and tail…just boots."

"Believe me…you need jeans and top mate…those clothes stink and won't survive a washing. Go help yourself…I'm not giving you change so don't hold back."

So I stink.

At least clean clothing will give me a better chance of getting more money. I eventually find some black jeans and a Tshirt. Also a pair of black boots. Then I go back to the reception area.

The guy is back behind the counter reading a news paper.

Damn…you know what…I'm just not used to this sort of situation. I'm feeling a bit lost….excuse me if I act out a bit.

"Great you found something." He folds up his paper and places it on the beige counter then points to a door. "Shower block. You get five minutes…soap is provided."

And I scratch at my ear and frown again. "I don't need a fucking show arsehole. I need a bed. She said I could have a bed."

"Well sugar…there is no way in hell I am letting your lice ridden stinking belligerent form into one of our beds….disinfect your self or get out."

Raised eyebrows at that comment. "Sugar?"

And his finger points to the showers. "If wash…change then come back…there are bins in there for your old clothing…we will recycle them."

"You want me to throw away a pair of Versace jeans?"

He's lighting up a smoke now. "No….I want you to throw away those rotting ripped rags you are wearing." He points to the showers again. "In there. Five minutes. Use the soap provided and I will know if you haven't."

"You going to check if my hands smell of soap?" I am half tuned now towards the showers.

"No…I will check to see if your arse does. Stop wasting my time will you?"

The showers are four separate cubicles. There is no one else around, but that really wouldn't have been too much of a problem. I strip off my clothes…and ok maybe he is right…just maybe they are beyond help now. It briefly occurs to me that I could just go home and pick up some stuff…but then I start to think of Spencer again…and I need to stop. It hurts my head too much thinking about him. So I turn on the water and there is a small electronic timer next to it giving me a countdown in minutes and seconds…

The water initially feels good….I soap up my hair which has begun to cover over properly where they hacked into my skull. I get soap in my eyes and it stings like fuck but that's ok…gives my eyes a good excuse to water while I rub the soap slowly over the rest of my body.

Then it happens…and it is so bloody sudden that I shout out…my feet suddenly get life back into them…and the pain is un- fucking- believable. I crouch down and start to rub at them with my hands but I can barely touch them. They are on fire and it feels like someone has taken a sledge hammer to them…I'm sure they are fucking broken…I've never felt anything quite like it…and yes I've felt pain so take that look off you face bitch.

The water has stopped and I am still there in the shower cubicle holding my feet and howling at the moon…I don't notice that someone has joined me.

"What the hell are you doing?"

It's the voice from the reception desk…I look up at him and give him a quick warning shake of the head. It's my 'fuck off and leave me alone' head shake…but I don't think he can read Flanders code yet.

"What's wrong?" and he touches my bare back.

"Unless you want to be butt fucked you keep your hands off me." I snarl at him…

The hand leaves my back and the guy moves away a bit. "I can get you some pain killers. If you need them…or are you tough enough to survive this?"

"Just leave me alone…give me a few minutes…I'll be fine." I turn so I can see him and I see that he is looking at the many marks and scars over my body. At the track marks on my arms. "Just five minutes." I say…and watch as he walks away again.

"When someone howls in pain you know it usually means they are hurting. Swallow some of that damned pride of yours and accept help." And he is gone.

And I am muttering curses at him under my breath because what I need no man can provide for me. It takes nearly half an hour before the pain goes and I can see with how my toes have turned a funny colour and it does bother me just slightly. I want to turn my stuff back on….I want to stop feeling this damned pain and stop feeling hungry and sick…but I cant. I can't do that cos I lost it….and this is how fucked up I am now.

I bet they find this really amusing…actually I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't part of it and were the instigators of my most recent loss…the bastards…

So now I smell of disinfectant…which is great on floors but not so great on Flanders. They clothes fit well…but for now I don't put the boots back on. I don't think my feet would take too kindly that.

At last the bloke shows me to a room. A single bed in a tiny space…but my own tiny space with a door even. The sheets aren't made of paper and the small lock is on my side not theirs. I am told to be out by eight….they will wake me…don't worry….don't break anything…and if I need the bathroom it's the end door down the hall. No one else is permitted in my room…no tricks…no drugs…no drink. Breakfast will be provided and for me a visit to the clinic…If I want the room for a second night I need to earn it….Cleaning or cooking whatever I have I can offer…not for cash, so don't go renting out for cash expecting a bed again…it wont happen.

With the door closed and the light off I lay on the top of the covers on the bed. It's not cold…some sort of heating under floor…

But yeah I lay there and touch myself and think of Spencer and what I want to do to him…what I would love to do to him…if I could…and I cant…and that damned soap is still making my eyes water.

-o-o-o-

Again I am up and awake before Aaron. I put on the coffee and then go and shower and stare at myself in the mirror. What is it about me which demands all this rubbish? I don't know. But from such a young age I was bullied and picked on.

I push up the sleeve on my blue bathrobe and look at my arms…then I take a fresh blade out of the cupboard and just check…it's important…I just check that I still bleed. If I can still bleed then I know I'm not dead….because sometimes I wonder. I throw the blade in the bin and cover it with some rubbish and pull my sleeves back down again…At least today I am still alive.

When I come out again feeling a bit better about life than the day before, Hotch is up and drinking coffee…he has obviously showered in his en suite – I can smell the shower gel on his skin and his hair is still damp. I walk over to him and smile and run my fingers through his hair pushing it back off his face…a quick 'good morning' kiss follows this and then a tight but contented smile.

"Spencer." He puts his hands on my shoulders and then pulls me close. "Please no games." He says the words into my ear and I can feel his hot breath over my skin.

"I promise."

"And a new television is arriving today…and hopefully someone to clean the mess."

I nod at him. "Don't worry…just go…I have a pile of graphic novels to wade through. I need to walk too…my chest feels – I don't know…tight I suppose is a good word for it."

Now he kisses me gently on the mouth…A proper…deep kiss…and I accept it.

I do have feelings for him…I do…I'm not playing him…I'm just confused over my needs and his needs and if they are at all compatible. I don't think they are.

And immediately he senses something is wrong. I can see in his eyes the worry and pain and anguish and I want to make it go away…but I can't and in a strange twisted kind of way it feels good.

I watch him go and close and lock the door and then retreat to my room and get dressed. Light brown cords and a long sleeved pinkish coloured shirt with a small pattern on it…and a brown sweater vest over the top. I slid one light brown and one dark brown sock on and then go to get coffee. I need to eat, but a search of the cupboards lets me know that today isn't the day to start. There just isn't anything there which appeals to me in the slightest. I grab some bread and contemplate toast, but change my mind and return it. So back to my room and I grab something to read, take four or five…maybe I will need six today…It feels tight and wrong somehow…so yes…a few painkillers and I go to the lounge and squish myself up in the chair and start to read….well look…

I spend a long time forcing my eyes over the pictures. Taking in the details. Comparing one drawing with the next…I force my brain to slow down and actually enjoy reading and looking at something for a change.

The phone rings mid morning… Hotch checking all is good…and I assure him it is.

"I need to go for a walk though…I'm waiting for the sleet to cut back a bit first." I tell him…and he is happy with that…and it is sort of comforting to have got the call.

At around mid day I get up for my fifth mug of coffee and the door bell goes. I put my empty mug back down on the green coaster and go to the door. I check to see who is there and someone is holding up some identification. The television people.

I slide the lock back and open the door to four guys with a big box. "Where do you want it?" I am asked and I point to the alcove where the old television had been….One of them closes the door while another mutters something about hooking it up for me…and another is asking what all the black mess is everywhere.

There is something wrong.

I don't know what it is but I can just feel something is not right. "I can hook it up." I say. "Just leave the box there." I turn to look at the guy at the door and see he has locked it. "I think I need to ask you gentlemen to leave."

I feel the hand on the back of my clothing and I turn quickly…I'm not hopeless…Derek showed me lots of ways to escape being held…but there are four of them and only one of me. My arms are grabbed and held behind my back by one. Another grabs my hair and pulls my head back.

"I thought the last beating we gave you would have been enough…but he didn't take the hint. Now we are going to have to hurt his little lady again."

And the fist is in my mouth…I feel my front teeth rattle and my lip split as I squirm and try to pull away…And I do….the guy holding my arms releases me and I make a quick moved away from them. One hand on my mouth and the other making my way slowly to where my gun is kept….

They don't let me get far…Another set of hands on me now…and I am pushed against the wall…but now my hands are free…I can fight back…

A punch to the side of my head I attempt to follow up with something of my own, but I am too easily blocked. A knee in my groin…and as I fold the other knee in my face and I'm on the floor and one kicks while the other stand silently by and watch.

"Don't kill him." Someone says. Oh joy…they don't want to beat me to death…I feel the cartilage in my nose give way and my breathing hurts…I need my pain killers…and I wonder if I hadn't taken so many if I wouldn't have been caught off guard so easily…

"Get up." They have stopped kicking me in the back and chest and face for a while…but get up? I don't think I can do that. "I said get up!" And hands in my hair pull my head up.

"I can't." And the talking brings on a blood filled coughing fit…

So a guy each side pulls me to my feet and drags me down the corridor to my room…where I am dropped back down to the floor and my coughing is allowed to continue.

"What – do – you want?" I manage to spit out, but I don't get an answer. Not the sort I wanted.

"Dirty little faggots will burn in hell. You know that don't you?" One of my hands is grabbed and hand cuffed to the pipe on the radiator. I just look at him. "You know that don't you…queer boy?" I don't answer him…

"Well you are going to burn in hell before you die…how does that sound?" I can hear the sound of something being poured out….not in my room…out down the hall. "Maybe your little lover boy will get the message this time?" I can see his eyes looking at something and a smile creep across his face. "Hold him still boys." But I writhe and wriggle and try to get them off me.

And again as I try to fight them off…I kick and with my free hand I punch and then decide scratching might be better…but they slap me away…stand on me…force my mouth open and empty my bottle of pills into my mouth. How many? I have no idea…But with the water they follow up with and the hand over my nose and mouth I have no option…I swallow…and slowly my fight leaves me. I stop thrashing ...I stop crying out in pain and I just lay on the floor and look at the ceiling.

I don't hear them leave…I don't hear the whooshing sound as the fluid is ignited…I just see the ceiling…

And it's ok

Everything will be ok…

And if not?

Well at least it won't hurt.

And my drool turns to pink bubbles as the first convulsion sets in.

* * *


	27. Chapter 27 Hospitals

Chapter 27

Hospitals

* * *

Another morning talking to people on the streets.

Have they seen anything? Even a rumour would be nice…Anything…and to be honest I'm not enjoying this.

The area I have been working in with Emily is the district where most of the gay guys work the streets…and as these are the ones who seem to be the targets in these crimes here is where I go…I feel uncomfortable. Not because I don't like them…not because I am disgusted by their life style…it is maybe more of a fear that their life style might be too familiar to Spencer.

I call him.

Seeing this I had to call…just to ensure all was good. He sounded cheery. He sounded more like his old self…his voice was relaxed and he was safe.

Now at lunch time I get out of the SUV and as Emily says. "I need to get something from my car." And walks off I see Dave running towards me.

"My car Aaron…Quickly."

My arm is grabbed and Rossi is pulling me towards his car.

"Dave…Wait…what the hell is going on here?"

"My car Aaron…now…I'll explain on the way."

And so we hurtle out of the parking lot with lights on and Dave's hand sounding the horn.

"Dave…what the hell is going on?"

I hear a sigh and he doesn't take his hands off the wheels as he jumps the red light at the junction in what I can only see as an attempt to get us both killed.

"Dave!" One hand on the dashboard as though that will help if we hit a truck.

"A call for you was transferred to me as you weren't in the office."

I nod and look worried. "and?"

"Your house is on fire." He takes a quick look at me. He knows full well that Reid is in my house…he knows what happened a couple of days ago. "Emergency services are there. I'm getting you there as quickly as I can."

My hand drops from the dashboard and I just stare out of the window. "I spoke to Reid a couple of hours ago. He was fine…he sounded good."

"Rossi is shaking his head. Shall we just try to get there and see what's happened….he might have just set fire to the chip pan."

"I don't have a chip pan." Not that it mattered. A slick layer of sweat had broken out on my brow. "Pull over – quickly." And he does…in good FBI tyre screeching fashion…in time for me to open the door and throw up into the slush at the side of the road. He is driving away again almost before I have the car door closed again.

I can see the plume of thick black smoke rising behind the houses in front of me…I can see curious people walking and cycling down in the direction…I can hear the wailing of sirens and in my mind I am trying to picture Spencer…alive and well and standing there with soot on his face and a chip pan in his hand….but it wont let me…

Dave pulls up behind a rank of fire trucks and grabs my arm. "Hotch…calm…I'm sure Spencer is fine. This is just material positions – everything is replaceable." And I shrug his arm off me.

"No…you are very wrong…not everything is." And I am out of the SUV and running forward. I can see the fire chief and that is where I am heading for…I can hear Rossi running behind me. He might

have tried to play this lightly…but I know he is as worried…no not possible…I know he is very worried about Reid. I come to a stop in front of the chief. "That's my house. Is Reid alright?"

He turns his attention to me.

"Reid?"

"There was someone in the house. Please tell me you got him out."

He nods at me…I don't like it…he nods at me and says. "Wait here." And he is walking off and the hand on my arm…I know is Rossi…I know he is thinking what I am thinking…and I can hear glass cracking and I can see flames crawling out of my front windows.

"I'm going to find him." But my movement forward is stopped.

"No…you are going to wait here. He might not have even been in the house Aaron." He must be able to feel the way I am trying to pull away from him. "Fine…let's check with the medics." Rossi still has a firm grip on my arm and I have a feeling he will cuff me to the fire truck if I try to get to the house…

"The medics…." But I'm not really wanting to go to them…I want to run through the flames and get Spencer out of there.

-o-o-o-

I can't breath.

Something is wrong and my mind wont let me work out what it is….I know I can't move….and I try to take in a big lungful of air and I cant…I just cough.

And I cant stop coughing…I can taste blood in mouth and the room has a funny foggy look about it.

Why is it so hot?

Why is there no air to breathe in?

I want to put my hands to my throat and claw an entry way in my neck so the air can get in, but my arms wont move and my coughing carries on and all the time I am coughing I can't take a breath.

The fog get is getting worse…I can see it slithering over the ceiling I am being forced to lay and look at. Is someone holding me down? I want to call out and push them off but I feel too confused…

I am trying to breathe again…but I can't. It hurts too much…deep down…a pain deep down in side of me….and it's getting hotter and the fog is getting closer and engulfing me…and it looks sort of orange.

The hands on me now are pulling…not holding me down…but pulling at me…I can feel something being put over my face and cold…lovely coldness on me – but that's all…and it's suddenly so dark and quiet that I wonder if it's real…so I decide I am dreaming and let it just drift away….

More pulling now and more floating….and suddenly there is immense pain. God awful agony….and it's still dark but not as hot but I can hear a long way away someone is shouting at me and hitting me. "Come on….come one…breathe damn you."

But I cant…don't they understand that?

I want to tell them…but they are thumping at me and shouting at me…and pulling me around but I just slide away and find some deep dark warm place to rest.

I've had enough.

"Come on!"

I can hear faintly…but this place feels good. Why go back?

There seems no point.

Something is being forced down my throat and I would like very much to tell them to stop. To leave me alone…Just leave me alone.

-o-o-o-

I saw the sudden flurry of movement and there was no way in hell Dave was going to keep me back this time…They had someone on the ground…They had paddles on his chest…lights in his eyes…a tube down this throat.

They were shaking heads and moving back and getting a gurney from the ambulance.

I need to get closer….I have to be with him…but again Dave is pulling me back. "Let them do their job." He says to me. "Let them do what they need to do…then you go to him. Calm down….he will need to see you calm and in control."

But I don't feel calm…and I don't feel in control.

Dave was right…The house I don't care about. Insurance will cover it…everything is replaceable…everything except Spencer.

The smoke in my eyes is making them water….The shouts of the emergency services are making my head spin. So I lean forward and I take deep breaths. Ten long deep calming breaths….then I look at Dave.

"If he is going to die – then I need to be with him." Dave's hand rests on my back but he doesn't say anything and I half expect him to haul me back again…but this time he lets me go and in a world far from this hellish one I walk over to where they are sticking needles into his arms...and setting up a drip. "Aaron Hotchner." I say before they can ask who I am. "That's my house." I gesture towards the flames. "How is he?"

They look up at me and frown and one of them calls a police detective over.

"This is the house owner." The medic says to him…and I get a very uncomfortable feeling from the looks I am getting.

The detective looks at me and frowns… "Do I know you from somewhere?" So I stand trying to see what they are doing to Spencer but they stand and shield him from me. "Agent Hotchner" I mumble.

And I catch the raised eyebrows. "Agent Hotchner…I'd like you to accompany me to the police station. I have some questions I would like to ask you."

-o-o-o-

It is hammering on the door that wakes me. "Time to move." A voice calls…and I don't know what the time is but I suddenly realise that I've been sleeping. Slowly I sit and look down at my feet…

Not good so very not good. Leaning forwards from where I am sitting on the bed I carefully touch them…

Pain.

Instant and tearing pain. So I move my fingers away from the burning red flesh to the darker black flesh of my outside toes…nothing…good? Or bad? I'm thinking it's bad…I thinking goodbye toes right now… and I'm also thinking that I'm not going to be putting those boots on again today.

Someone hammers on the door again…"Out." The voice says…and with a sigh I decide to comply with their wishes. That bitch Laura said she'd be around today…I'm hoping to get a blow from her at least….but I also have something else I need to ask her to do for me…I can pay for it. In kind.

That doesn't make me a whore.

I don't whore.

I'm no sodding prostitute.

I'm just using the materials available to me to make cash as quickly as I can.

That…and the fact I enjoy the sexual act. Any sexual act.

Almost.

I do draw the line at children. Well human children.

Sam doesn't count….He doesn't come under those categories.

No…Sam is different…but he's not available right now….I'm on my own…and I have to get back.

I walk down to the pisser and use the can, then go down to find where everyone else goes in the mornings in this place…

It's kind of like an open house prison you know….HAHA! Only here they don't chop your head open.

I walk by a bloke with his hair tied back with a black band.

"You." I put my hand on his arm and pull him around to face. "You have another of those?" I flick his hair and he curls his lip at me but my eye's don't leave his and he pulls the one in his hair out and passes it to me.

"Here – take it." And he walks off with his hair flopping down his back…

I walk back to the washrooms and dampen my hair down and pull it back and tie it tight.

It's about taking control you know. You have to let them see you are in charge…if its in some fucking charity centre for losers or if it's a prison…AH! Same fucking thing! I am giggling slightly to myself as I enter the mess hall…

Canteen? The room with toast in it. Coffee would have been nice…but they only provide you with those fucking stupid milk cartons.

"It's much healthier."

"I'm not here for my fucking health." I snap back

"Then go and sell yourself on the streets for your crack. You cant have coffee."

And I'm not fucking drinking cow juice….so I walk off and stuff a bit of toast in my mouth and wonder what the fuck I'm doing. I'm meant to be finding Spencer…not arguing over coffee and milk…

Sitting down I look down at my feet again and put my boots on the table. Such a fucking mess…it's all a complete cock up.

"That's unlucky." A hand reaches over and lift my boots up and drops them to the floor…I look over expecting to see someone I can smash with my fists and see that Laura chic.

"Must be the reason I'm here then."

"Why are they not on your feet?"

"Ah…good question. I think I have advanced frost bite or gangrene or maybe both." I lean back slightly and place a foot on the table.

"Christ! Bloody hell…you need to get that looked at." Her hands are hovering nervously over my foot not quite touching it.

"You think?" I smirk.

"The other one?"

So I pull my other leg out from under the table and show her the marvellous rooting mess I have where I used to have feet.

"Look…I don't think the clinic are going to be able to deal with that…I'll take you to the emergency room. You need to be in hospital."

I raise an eyebrow and smile at her. "Really…as soon as the pain goes it will be good."

"Sorry – I didn't get you name did I?"

"What has my name got to do with my feet?"

"Sharing information. You tell me your name…I'll tell you how to get pain killers."

So I nod and look at her. "I'm a fag."

And she smiles and looks at her fingernails and nods. "That is what you are…not who you are."

"I'm a fag whose boyfriend died."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah well shit happens…but I should have been there for him…and I should have been able to say goodbye to him."

She nods again.

"So you are going to find out where he is for me."

And now she is fucking smiling at me and shaking her head. "I don't think so."

And my feet got back on the floor and I wrap my right arm around me and lean my chin on my left fist. "Laura." I sigh. "I am telling you this so you know I'm not going to jump your bones the first chance I get." Fucking liar Flanders…you fucking liar. I swallow. "I need to know where someone lives…he knows where Spencer is…I have to know."

"You know this person's name?"

I nod.

"You cant look him up in the directories?"

I shake my head. "He's a fed."

And she stands up. "You want me to snoop around for you and find out the address of a federal agent?"

"Yes I do."

And I can still hear her laughing as she walks away.

"Fucking whore." I mutter…

well she is…was…will be again…I know that sort.

I put my boots on and ignore the pain…I'm going to ignore that itch I have too…and go and earn some money.

Then I will get my own sodding place to stay…and then I will find Hotchner.

I am limping…I know I'm bloody limping…and I know my boots are slowly filling with blood…but I'm not going to let it stop me. There is a thick wool jacket laying over the back of a chair…so I grab it and leave.

Fuck them all.

I don't need their bloody charity.

-o-o-o-

"We need to ask you some questions about Dr Reid."

I'm down at the local precinct but I'm not sure why…something about the fire. Did Reid start it? I nod at them…they won't tell me how he is…they wont even tell me if he is alive of dead.

"We found him in a back bedroom."

"His room." I say.

"Badly beaten and drugged."

I just look at them and try to not get too alarmed by what they are saying to me.

"Hand cuffed to the radiator."

"Oh god." And my hands are pushing hair off my face.

"Do you treat all your houseguests with the same respect Agent Hotchner?"

"What the hell are you implying?" I want to stand and pace but I force myself to sit and try to stay calm.

"It was just a question. Drugged then beaten…or drugged to stop his screams afterwards?"

And I just shake my head thinking of the horror of what must have gone on when I was at work. That short space of time between when I called him and when I got back to the office.

* * *


	28. Chapter 28 Questions

Chapter 28

Questions

* * *

"We are not sure of the long term damage Dr. Reid. Although the damage done is not terminal it could well be debilitating – in the long term. The damage to your lungs is quite severe."

And I just stare at him.

"The police need to talk to you…do you feel up to it?"

And I give a small shrug. Then I look up at the doctor. "When they have gone…Can you come back please – I need to ask you something." He nods and rests a hand on my shoulder and leaves…As he goes I can see uniformed police outside my door, but it is a couple of suits that come in to talk to me.

"Are you up to a few questions?"

So I nod. I really don't remember much of what happened though…so I don't know if I will be very helpful.

"We would like to start of by asking you a few questions about Agent Hotchner."

I blink at them. "Agent Hotchner? Is something wrong?"

"That is exactly what we are trying to find out. The doctor says that you have been quite badly attacked…by feet and hands. They also say that not all the marks are new. Some are a few days old."

"Er – yes."

"You have cuts on your arms Dr Reid."

And I'm not sure where all this is leading to.

"Has Agent Hotchner ever hit you?"

And I swallow and just look at them. I can see now where this is going and I don't like it.

"Did Agent Hotchner cuff your wrist to the radiator in the back bedroom?"

"What? NO! You think he did this?" Damn my throat hurts and my head is beginning to spin and I reach out for something to be sick in….and find the floor. I bring up a dark red bile probably a mix of blood and smoke deposits. I quickly wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand and lay back down on the bed.

"Has Agent Hotchner ever hit you?" And I want to say no…I really do because he didn't do this…but if they are talking to him I don't know what he is going to say…and I can't lie. So I try avoidance.

"He didn't do this to me."

"That wasn't the question. Has Agent Hotchner ever hit you?"

"Yes…but that was…" they cut me off.

"That's all I needed to know." And he is standing up..

"No…you don't understand…"

He turns back to look at me. "Can you tell me how you ended up cuffed to a radiator?"

And I don't remember…I really have no memory of anything from opening the front door. So I shake my head. "I don't know."

"Do you know who it was who beat you and broke one of your ribs?"

"It wasn't Agent Hotchner."

"So you do remember who it was?"

I shake my head. "I just know it wasn't him."

"How do you know Dr Reid if you don't remember anything?"

"Because he wouldn't do this to me!" and my shouted words bring on another coughing fit. Again I lean over the side of the bed and spit out muck from deep down inside of me.

"But you told me he hit you. Now you are saying he didn't?"

But now I cant talk…my coughing has increased and I can't draw a breath through the muck blocking my air ways and they are leaving and the hospital staff are laying me back on the bed.

I can't breathe….I flail at them and scratch at my throat and kick out in panic as I see a smudgy greyness creeping around the edges of my vision and they are stuffing a tube down my throat and suddenly….suddenly there is air…They pull it from me again and I lay taking big gulps of wonderful lungfulls of air as they take away the suction tubes and write notes and then take my temperature…I want to talk to them and tell them to bring the police back again…I need to tell them this wasn't Aaron…They know it wasn't…they must do…he would never do that to me…

Hotch would never hurt me.

And I know what I made him do to him must have hurt him a lot more than it did me.

A thing is bring strapped across my face like I had before…giving me oxygen to breathe and making it easier for me.

The damage from the smoke coupled with the damage already there has left me wheezing today…I hope – I hope it will heal…but I can feel fluids already bubbling up and filling my tubes again and I turn to my side and start coughing and spitting up into a small bowl they've given me.

-o-o-o-

The emergency room.

She was right.

The voices in my head are right too.

I need to sort myself out. I need to get back to me…and get my damned feet sorted for a start. So here I am. Standing on said manky feet in the emergency room waiting for someone to ask me what's wrong.

"Can I help you?" A nurse finally asks me.

I give her a little nod… "It's my feet." And she looks down at them.

"What's wrong with them?"

"I can show you." I offer….

You know what?

I hate hospitals…I hate being in them…I hate looking at them…I detest the smiles on the nurses faces…and well…I don't want to be here…but I know I need to find Spencer and I cant do that if I cant walk. So I sit down….

……..and I carefully unlace my boots….and I slide my left foot out…on account that I think that's the worst one right now.

"My god."

How comforting.

I nod.

"I'll get a doctor to look at that for you…You shouldn't be walking around."

"I lost my wings."

She ignores me and goes to get a fucking wheelchair.

"Can you sit in this sir…and I can take you to see a doctor and get your details on the way."

"I can walk. I walked here didn't I? I can walk."

And I can see that… 'but what if his toes fall off before we get there look' So I put my foot back into my boot.

"I can walk." I repeat. "This is way beyond painful…Walking on them really wont hurt anymore than they do already."

She frowns and nods. "This way." And marches me down to a cubical.

I am then put through a number of tests and asked a lot of questions. "Name?"

"Flanders."

"Address?" I give them the address of the apartment.

"Age?"

"Thirty one."

"Are you on drugs Mr Flanders."

"Yes Dr Levin – you might say that I am."

He sighs and looks at me. "What do you take?"

"Anything Dr Levin…anything I can get my hands on. But they price of a blow job has dropped drastically in the past six months of so…I have to work damned hard to get to money for a good fix."

And he stops prodding my feet and just looks at me. "What do you mean by that Mr Flanders?"

"I mean I fuck for money De Levin. Can you fix my feet?"

Still not prodding he puts his things down. "Do you have medical insurance Mr Flanders."

"Well you see…I was thinking…You get my feet better for me and I will let you have my arse for free."

He stands with his arms crossed and just looks at me in a very serious silence.

"Yes…yes I have medical insurance. No it's not under the name of Flanders…no cant prove it…yes I will leave." And I reach over for my boots.

"I cant let you leave in this condition…I need you down in surgery. All this black dead flesh has to be removed Mr Flanders or you will get gangrene and you will die – if left untreated."

So there you go….I have to have bits cut off me and I am really not happy about this outcome…

"I think I am syphilitic." I inform him.

He nods at me. "Wouldn't surprise me. You need to get properly treated young man or this is going to cripple you and I can assure you, that pretty face which is earning you money right now wont be pretty for long."

"Well…I sort of know that…just fix me."

So I have a drip set up and drugs pumped into my system to try to kill off the bastards in my blood making me feel so sodding ill and unable to keep my head straight but I just don't want to be here. I think of all the things I could be doing which are more important and can think of nothing really…except look for Hotchner and I cant do that if my feet are rotting. They took loads of bloods and skin and hair samples and it crosses my mind somewhere in the fog of the drugs that they might find out that I am not some poor down on his luck rent boy…but a psychopathic cannibalistic monster called Franks.

I cant let that bother me…if they come for me…then I will just kill them…end of it all …they cant kill me…they can hack bits off me though…and that thought isn't a pleasant one….I don't want that fucking or not so fucking chemical castration…

Do you know what I really want…what makes me feel like I might smile…

I want Spencer and me and I want us together someone…just the two of us and no one else. We did it before and had a blast. I want to do that again…But some bastard killed him…and I don't even get the bloody satisfaction of payback…cos he died too…I have nothing…and it's so bloody frustrating. I need to tell him…I need those damned words said to him.

-o-o-o-

"No I've never hit him!" and as I say it I realise what I have said….

"That's not what Dr Reid told us."

And now I don't know what Spencer has said or what they are accusing me of here. "Are you charging me with something?"

"How does false imprisonment and endangering the life of another sound to start off with?"

"I need a lawyer."

And I sit and listen to them asking me more questions.

"How often do you take your fists to him Agent Hotchner? Have you not just been through a messy divorce? Do you think that is why you did this to your former colleague? You were aware of his physical condition? The hospital said he was with you to convalesce."

But I wont talk to them now…I just listen and wonder how this became such a damned mess. I would never – but I did…I can't say I would never hurt him…he proved that to me….he showed me….I am capable of hurting him.

And I can feel it…pulling…I can feel I am getting pulled down…and I wont allow it to happen. I wouldn't let Haley do it…and I was married to her…I certainly wont allow Reid to do it to me. And I definitely wont be sharing my home with him. He should never have come home with me….I should have let him go to the convalescence home where he would have been safe.

"You are free to go Agent Hotchner."

"Pardon?"

"You are free to go. But be advised that it will look very bad for you if you try to visit Dr Reid."

I nod and stand up.

I need a beer…I need beer and pizza and I need to watch a ball game…and forget all this.

And as it is Dave who I see first as I leave the precinct feeling like I have done something wrong when it is the man I love I am being accused of imprisoning and it is g my home which is a burned out wreck and I need to find out why.

"There is a reason for his Dave…Someone is picking on Spencer to get to me. The gay killings…its all part of that." And if I wasn't so wrapped up in my little world of loving Spencer I would have realised that straight away…but it was distracting me. So all the more reason to stop it now.

"You were right…About Spencer."

And he nods but doesn't say anything.

-o-o-o-

I don't feel like I am getting any better and it's not helped by the constant questions by the police.

"How often did Hotchner hit you?"

"He didn't!" But he did….. "Not like that…He wouldn't. It wasn't him."

There wasn't really anything they could do…I am definitely not going to press charges and they can't prove anything and so finally the questions stop.

Day three and I am laying staring at the ceiling and I hear footsteps by the bed…I close my eyes and then turn to look and open them slowly and prey it will be Hotch. But it's a nurse.

"Just need to do your obs Spencer." She's ok. I don't mind her…but it would have been nice to get a visit from a friend…but no one. I don't want to see Derek…and I don't expect JJ to come in…or Emily for that matter…Garcia though…and Hotch? I would have thought a visit would have happened by now.

"We are thinking tomorrow if you have a good sleep tonight that we can move you." And my stomach twists in panic.

"Move me?"

"To somewhere where they can look after you whilst you recover fully."

I sigh and turn my head away from her. "I can go home."

"We the doctors are worried – they want you to……"

"I know what they want and I know what they are going to say and I just want to go home – and I need to talk to the doctor about something."

I hear her sigh now and the squeak of her shoes as she walks off. "He will be doing his rounds in about an hour. You can talk to him then."

And I roll onto my side and pull my knees up and close my eyes….And I wonder what I did so wrong that no one will visit me.

-o-o-o-

I'm allowed to go on the forth day of confinement. Feels like I'm some sodding princess about to have a baby the fuss they made over me.

The nurses liked to come in and 'check for sores' RIGHT! Any excuse to look at my arse and cock…and I'm not shy…it's only my body…only flesh…and their 'inspections' are the closest I'm going to get to a rim job in quite a while.

The doctors are amazed at the speedy way I heal…which I do…my toes look scabrous and bad….but they are still attached to me…which was the important thing…the rest will heal…I just didn't think I could re-grow a toe right now.

I have made an executive decision. I am going to find out which is Hotchner…and I'm going to ask him…tell him to tell me where Spencer is…then I can rest….I will go home…to the apartment and get my stuff and be able to move on. But I need to be in control and stay calm when I do it. I need to – I need to be less me and more – someone else…Play a part…make believe I am a good guy…the polar opposite of Frankie boy.

So I leave and walk…and I've been told not to…but what the hell I like walking and I've got a pocket full on pills and my blood is full of crap and I need to walk it off….but my hands aren't shaking…my hair is clean….and so are my clothes.

And here I am in the foyer of the FBI building again and I'm talking to security. "I need to get a message to Agent Emily Prentiss." I smile nicely and keep my hands in my pockets. So they pat me down and put the paddle detector thing over me and then ask me to wait in a small room…maybe the same as last time…I don't know. I sit and wait…I'm not allowed to smoke so I fiddle with the buttons on the coat I nicked…then I cross my legs so my ankles is resting my the other leg's knee and I pick at my boot laces…and I don't know how long I'm there for….but eventually she arrives. With a little guard at the door and she smiles at me and sits at the table the other side.

"Floyd." She says. "Nice of you to drop by."

But I can tell she's none to pleased. "

"I'm going to ask you something…and I need you to think carefully before you answer."

Her eyebrows do a little flick and she stays silent.

"I need to know where Hotchner lives."

She smiles at me. "See this gentleman out please." And she is on her feet.

"Emily…wait…we can talk about it – over coffee."

"No – I'm sorry…I'm very sorry Floyd but if you were thinking of getting information out of me you came to the wrong person. He's gone…you need to be gone too…please don't waste my time comeing back…next time I will not be coming down to tell you that I don't want to see you or your shadow again."

This isn't going well.

"Just…."

"No!"

the bitch cut me off.

And without really thinking I am calculating my chances here…and they are low.

"And if he shows up again call security and get him arrested…I don't want him here again."

So as you can see that didn't go too well…which is why I spend the next four days sitting on a lifted motorcycle with a full helmet and all the leathers to go with - luckily the blood washed off easily – and I follow each and every fucking vehicle that comes out of that parking lot…well not all at the same time…but if an SUV with tinted windows leaves…then I follow…and so on day four I follow it and it pulls up into a parking lot outside a motel…and I pull up in the same lot but down a bit and I watch as I mess with the nothing in my panniers…I watch a tall dark bloke…and I know it's him…I know it's the right one this time. I can tell…the suit…the way he walks…everything…its Hotchner.

I give him five minutes…long enough for his welcome home piss and to put the coffee machine on…and then I pull off the helm and clip it to the bike and with a deep breath I walk…and I feel damned good in this kit….I walk over to the room he entered and I knock on the door.

* * *


	29. Chapter 29 Introductions

Chapter 29

Introductions

* * *

I'm just taking my jacket off and hanging it over the back of the chair when the knock comes on the door.

As I walk to the door my hand does a quickly check that my sidearm is in place.

There is no way to check who it is so cautiously I open the door about six inches to see who it is.

A guy is standing there his hands in the pockets of a heavy dark jacket. He is shorter and me by quite a few inches. He has sores of some kind around the edge of his nose and that the corners of his mouth. The darkness under his eyes makes me think he hasn't slept recently or he is ill…

"Hotchner?"

I don't know who the hell the person is and I don't know if I want him to know it is me until I know what he wants.

"Who's asking?"

A hand comes out of his pocket and he extends it out towards me. "Floyd Flanders."

I stand and look at the hand which is pale and the nails which are long but I don't accept the hand.

"What do you want?"

I don't want this man near me. I don't want to have to kill him and if he comes too close that might be the result.

"I need to know where Spencer is."

I nod at him and wonder why the hell he thinks I am going to tell him a thing like that, so I start to close the door. He is fast…his foot is in the way and I slam it against him. I am looking at his face as I do so trying to work out what it is about him that keep Spencer needing him…All I can see is a diseased creep who looks like he has an STD and a need for another hit of something. I do see a look of pain (?) cross his face though.

"I just need to talk…let me explain."

"I said no." and my hand is getting ready to pull the firearm from my holster.

"I need to say goodbye. I need to do this Hotchner. Just let me say goodbye."

"Move your foot." Which he doesn't. Then he says something strange.

"I need to know where he is…just to say the words over him…so he knows what I feel….just tell me where he is. What harm can I do to him now?"

So I let go of the door and listen to him. "Carry on…convince me."

"I loved him."

"You abused him."

"He wanted it!"

I pull the door open to get a better look at his person and I still cant understand what it is about this diseased monster that made Reid want to be with him and to cause so much damage by not being with him.

"You forced it on him Flanders." I snap back at him.

"And you are going to stop me saying goodbye? What the hell harm can I do now? I didn't kill him! He was in your fucking care when he died!"

And I stand and look at the finger now pressed against his chest. He thinks Reid is dead. This is why he hasn't been back for him. Do I tell him…? Do I let him believe he is dead?

"I have nothing to tell you Flanders. Leave now or I will force you to leave."

"I just need to say goodbye to him!" And he is pushing me back with the palm of his hand.

"You are too late!" I snap at him. "If you are after some sort of forgiveness Flanders…something to stop you from feeling guilty then you need to see a priest." I take his wrist and remove it from me…he doesn't resist…his hand drops to his side.

"You will deny me this? I loved him!"

And I am pushing the door closed again. "Yes I will deny you this. Now go…and don't come back…next time I wont be so polite."

"Fuck you!" And he steps back… "He was mine! I loved him…you can't do this!" He is talking with venom in his voice and nasty cold tone I am sure that Spencer heard many times.

"He's not yours now. Get out…go away…see a counsellor…I can't help you."

"You have no idea what you are doing!"

"I have a damned good idea. I am protecting some one I love. Now go…show your face here or near me again and things will get nasty." I want to warn him to watch his back…tell him to stay out of the gay areas…beware of the UnSub. I don't like this man…there is nothing about him I like. He has damaged Spencer probably beyond repair, but somehow I don't wish him dead…I just wish him gone.

And I stand and watch him back away a bit and nod at me…He lifts a finger and points at me. "I will be back.

………….If he says more I don't know…I slam the door and put the lock across. I realise that staying here tonight will be a bad idea. I need to be where it is busier or at least where there are more people…I grab my phone and dial Dave's number…and watch Flander's retreating back from the crack in the drapes and wonder again what it was Reid saw in that strange man….and also could I keep him away. Should I keep him away….did I have a right to keep him away from Reid?

-o-o-o-

He is keeping something from me. I know that much.

I can see it in his body language. I can smell the chemicals on his skin. He knows something. Something he is keeping from me and I'm not sure what it is. I need to think. I need to find somewhere to hole up and get my brain working properly again.

There is this idea I have and so I start to walk back to the hospital. Not for treatment…Not because I am in pain…even though I am…but I know there is a ready supply of pain relief for these damned feet of mine. There is no way I am going back to the shelter to be treated like some stray dog. Or Diseased rat.

Around the back of the hospital is a small entrance which leads down to a boiler room and so this is direction I make my way in now. I keep to the shadows as now it is cold and snowing and I am tired. Tried of feeling empty and tired of feeling alone.

Pathetic.

I know I am….

But I've always had Spencer…and now I have nothing.

So I will take time to work out what to do next…how to make Hotchner tell me what I need and how to satisfy what I need now.

And now I need to be numb. I need to get away from this shit and so this is what I am going to do….

………….don't wander off…stay and listen to me…….Once through these doors……See easy to open….and down these stairs I am in the main boiler room for the hospital. This place is old…not hugely old but old enough for my needs…As technology moves on you need less space for the same things…therefore this vast underground area the hospital once had for heating and plumbing and such like is hardly used….just this one room…and I can bypass it quickly and easily and be through here and out the other side before you can blink. This door on the other side….this corridor leading into darkness…and now down this side route. These pipes which once chugged and filled with steam are now empty and silent…this is good…this is how I want it. Down the end here…right at the darkest end and around the final corner and down the last flight of stairs I finally find what I need. And empty alcove. Somewhere to lay down…Somewhere I can light a lamp and no one will ever know. Some where to bring something or someone back to and have fun…or lunch. Somewhere to begin my life again.

I need Spencer.

I need him more than life.

I would die for him…..but you know that. I tried….and the fates sent me back again….It's not time….not my time…it wasn't his either.

So I sit on an old wooden bench in the back of this small area and take my boots off and look at my feet and close my eyes and wish I had thought about going up to the pharmacy first and getting a supply. I'm still not sure I can do it you see.

My gift for getting anything and everything in life I want without asking or any effort seems to have been put on hold…and until I get Spencer's location then I can't carry on. And I cant get that without tearing Hotchner apart. I realise that now. I think he realises that now too….and I might have to go back on an old promise. Now I am going to do that thing I never used to do…and I am going to sleep….and in the morning I will try to get some meds from upstairs. Shouldn't be too hard. I hope.

-o-o-o-

They have transferred me.

I'm not going to die. But I will take a while to recover. They need to keep up intense physical therapy and get my lungs working properly again. I don't think it will work. Every breath feels like a dozen knives stabbing into me…

So here I am. I have my own room and en suite bathroom and at least doesn't look like a hospice. It does smell of a hospitals though…you know that special smell they always have. I sit here…I'm not permitted to go anywhere unless I am in a wheel chair and with someone. I'm not permitted to go walking alone….HA! I'm not permitted to go walking period. Strapped to the chair I am sitting in is a big tank of oxygen and a mask next to my hand.

Easy to reach.

In case I need it.

When my lungs refuse to work properly.

And this isn't where I want to spend the rest of my life.

Sleeping with this contraption over my face into eternity isn't my idea of the best of fun…and Hotch's joke about working in a candy store suddenly seems like it might be real.

I have such a fury inside my heart that I want to scream, but I don't think I have the energy anymore to do it…or the will. I am meant to be getting better, but this is going to take a very long time if ever and maybe I don't want to now.

"Time for your medication Dr Reid."

And I sigh and let them put morphine into the needle permanently embedded into the back of my hand. I look at it and wonder how much pain I would be in if I wasn't given this stuff every hour or so….I've tried to keep count of how often but my eyes wont let me keep up with the clock and my mind cant keep up with my eyes with all this rubbish swimming around in my veins.

And I want Floyd.

……………….I know………….I am aware of what he did that last day I saw him….but you don't know him like I do. Do you?

You've never felt those strong hands protectively holding you offering you anything they can give. You've never felt that warmth radiating from his hands and heart. You've never experienced that and that is what makes me need him. Even after what he did…none of us are perfect.

I'm not making excuses for him….its' true…

This place I am in now is attached to the hospital but runs separately…it finances differently. I am going to have to pay for this some how and my insurance will only cover it for so long. I have a feeling this is long term….

This – this – excuse me…

I am coughing up junk from my lungs….it is never ending….the more I bring up the more that seems to want to gather there. It never stops. As soon as they suction one lot of gunk up the next lot begins to fill.

I sit in my chair wheezing like an old man and wonder what will happen….and I know…I think I know that I will end up dead or needing a transplant.

Correction.

I will definitely end up dead. That's not an outcome I am willing to accept.

………………slowly the drug calms down the pain….but the coughing carries on. A nurse is there a hand on the back of my neck as I am bent forward trying to free myself of the deadly fluids building up again already.

"Take it easy Spencer." She says… "Deep breaths." And I try but they just come as short panicked ones and so she kneels in front of my chair and takes my hands which are gripping so hard onto the fabric of my trousers and she holds them gently. "Relax Spencer." She says in a quiet calm voice. And slowly I do…gradually the breaths become deeper and slowly the panic dies down as the shaking starts and I want to grab for oxygen but the nurse wont let go of my hands. "You don't need it Spencer. Sit back and relax." So I let my back rest against the back of they chair I am sitting in and I close my eyes and tip my head back slightly and pull the air in and hold her hands tightly to remind me I am not alone.

That is the worst part…..

………….Now

at night time I am alone in my room with fresh air being pumped across my face so I don't stop breathing in my sleep I wonder is today is my final day. My last sleep.

So I close my eyes as my lastest dose of morphine hits my system and takes away the pain in my chest and I fight the sleep I am feeling coming. I don't want to sleep. I don't want today to be my last ever day…but I cant stay awake. I feel my eyes closing and my tense body relaxing as I slide down into a deep dreamless sleep.

-o-o-o-

So here I am standing at the bottom of the stairs and there is something telling me that this is right…this is the way to go and I'm not sure why or what it is. I walk slowly up the stairs from the other end of the boiler room…a long way from where I have made my home and at the top of the stairs is a small area with a board upon the wall covered in writing…Life would be easier if my eyes could focus properly…if my feet didn't kill me…If I didn't feel like killing someone. Yes like would be so much easier…I cant read the fucking writing. It's a smudgy blur so I ignore it and look out for security cameras of which there appear to be none. I carefully push open the door and step out into the dimly lit hallway. It is a passageway with doors along either side…and silent…oh so silent….so carefully I close the door behind me and glance to my left…and then my right…and it is to my right I move off into first.

Careful Floyd…you can do without being caught now….The first door it into an office. There is a window looking out onto the passageway and the lights are off. Quickly I open the door and slide in. On the back of the door is a white doctors coat and on the desk a chip board as handy prop and something to throw if I need to distract. Then head up I leave the room and walk down the passage looking for somewhere I can get what I need.

Each door has a name on it…and the writing is a blur as I reach the first I can't read it until my nose is pressed right up close to the door. 'Lucy Masters' I push the door open and look. The room has a young woman in it. She is sleeping. There are no drips or bottles or anything and so I bend down and kiss her gently or the forehead….you know…just so I know she had a lucky day…just to prove to me that I can have a good side.

I do have a good side.

I just keep it buried.

I don't like to show it. People will take advantage of it.

I leave as quietly as I entered…and think Lucy is one helluva lucky girl.

The next room housed Lance Grogan. I open the door quickly again and enter…

He has a drip in his arm and he is laying there looking at me. "Night check." I say to him, and walk to the drip. I peer blindly at the tiny marks showing the amount of chemical being dripped into this blood. I turn and walk away. "Good night." I say as I open the door. He doesn't answer me.

"Shit. This isn't going to be as easy as I thought it would be….breaking into the pharmacy would have been easier.

The next room. Dorothy Woods…no drugs available and now I am chancing my luck…

"Shit. Why don't any of you bitches have morphine?"

I leave the room quickly again.

I cross over and walk in without looking at the name. A drip.

I walk to it and look….I decide I will detach it from the person sleeping and take the needle administering it….sod disease and whatever….second hand needle will have to do. Quickly I put clip board on the bed and unhook the bag of chemicals from the stand. I shove it into one of the big pockets on the white coat and turn to remove the needle from the back of the hand.

And there is.

At first I'm not sure what it is I am looking at…Just laying there on the white cotton sheeting. I know that hand. Slowly my eyes move up the length of the arm until I can see the first small curl of hair…and I think my heart is going to stop.

My eyes slowly move across to the face…and there he is.

Laying there.

Sleeping.

"Spence?"

I put the bag hurriedly back onto the hook and turned back to make sure I had seen what I thought I had.

"Spencer?" I whisper again…and gently push hair off his face. He has a thing strapped under his nose passing air over his face. He is still sleeping. So carefully I bend down and run my tongue over his lips. "Babe." Still keeping my voice low but now my hands are gently on his shoulders giving him the gentlest of shakes. "Babes – please wake up." This dark light is giving me a headache and in turn it's making my eyes water. "Babes." I sit on the bed next to him and run my hands over his arms and across his face and he is here.

I can say the words to him…

"Shit." He's not dead.

"Babes – I need to say that you are my life. You are my reason for living. You are the only thing I have ever really wanted and will ever need. Without you I am nothing. I am worthless. I'm sorry."

Again I kiss him gently on the lips. "I'm so sorry." I whisper my words so quietly suddenly afraid I will awaken him. "You are alive Spence."

And I feel my soul pouring back into me. My life coming back….and I know I can cure Spencer and then I will go and rip Hotchner to shreds. Him and that whore Prentiss.

Until then.

I lay down on the bed behind Spencer and gently roll him over onto his side. I wrap my arms and legs around him and kiss him gently on the back of his neck. "I'm here for when you wake up again babes."

* * *


	30. Chapter 30 Visitor

Chapter 30

Visitor

* * *

I can feel the sudden weight of someone with me. I don't know who it is. I can't see the person. My eyes wont focus, but I can feel hands touching me. I can feel I am being moved onto my side and then someone is behind me laying down.

At first I wonder if it is Hotch…but he wouldn't do this. Only one person ever does this. Maybe two people….but I think…I am almost certain this isn't Ardal. I can feel the legs of this other person pressing against me and one arm draping across my chest and the palm of the hand resting on my chest.

It is this….coupled with the gentle kissing on the back of my neck that makes me know. I know….

……………without the shadow of a doubt that this is Floyd. I want to say his name. I want to reach up and touch his hand but the fear that he isn't really there makes my headache and the muscles in my stomach contract and I am afraid that if I reach up for the evidence that it won't be there.

………Nothing more than a dream.

A Wonderful dream….but only that.

So I do what I always do when Floyd lays down behind me like this to comfort and keep me safe….I push back against him…and I hear his sigh and feel the gentle bites and his voice. "Spence." Just a breath of a word but one I have been longing to hear for so long now.

He doesn't say any more to me…He doesn't have to. I close my eyes again and feel asleep in his embrace knowing at last there is a reason to keep going………

……………………………..He will never let me down.

As I drift off I can feel his fingers brushing against my hair and his limbs holding me tight and I don't think I have ever felt this relieved and happy and content in my life….even the pain is drifting away. Though that might have something to do with the morphine.

-o-o-o-

I left before he awoke – but I cut some of my hair off first and wound it around Spencer's fingers. I need him to know it was really me and not a dream. I write him a note…this time a proper one…and one it doesn't matter so much if he never sees…but I write it using the pen hanging off the clipboard and I write using my normal cursive writing.

'Love you Babes.'

I don't need it to say more.

And silently I leave. I go back the way I arrived. I still manage to avoid anyone it matters though I do think I was seen this time…but what the hell? It doesn't matter now. Only one thing matters now.

………………..Hotchner lied to me………………..

I nick a van from the car park. A small black thing – but perfect for what I need.

Needing to arrive without being pulled over I am mindful of stop signs and my speed. Last thing I want now is for them to find Frankie driving around in the area. I have to make plans. I have to get Spence away and make him totally mine. I need to keep him close and never let him from my sight again….

I need to make sure Hotchner never goes near him again. I need to eliminate Hotchner. Slowly.

Pulling up in reverse I park outside the motel room he was in yesterday in hopes that he will still be there. I unlock the rear doors of the van and scan around quickly for anything I might be able to use as a weapon but just end up looking at my hands….and I smile.

Leaving the back doors of the van slightly ajar I walk to Hotchner's door and knock gently.

…………….No need to alarm him…..yet.

Again it opens a crack and I slide my foot into place. "Hotchner. I think we need to talk." I know he carries….I don't know if he is carrying now and so I keep alert and smile.

"We have nothing to talk about." And I can feel the door being presses against my foot as he attempts to close the door.

My hand goes out and I place he palm against the door and tap with my fingernails. "What about your lie? Can we maybe start there?"

"Get away from my door." He spits at me.

And now I lean on in with my shoulder and let my arm drop and reach out to grab the Tshirt he is wearing. "You lied to me. I think we can at least talk about why?"

"I have nothing to tell you. I'm still not telling you where he is. So you may as well leave. You've damaged him enough. He told me what you did. I know what you are Flanders."

So I push harder against the door and it moves open slightly and I can see the alarmed look on his face as I start to force my in to the motel room.

"I know where he is. I've seen him…I've held him….can you smell him on me….smell how much he wanted me?" And I am in the room slamming the door shut with my foot.

He pulls away from me and turns making his way to where I can see his gun resting on the top of the small cupboard next to his bed. "That – That is not going to bother me Hotchner. You gun. Forget it. I'm not bothered by your weapon." But he picks it up and I hear it cock and I walk towards him keeping my eyes on his and off the gun which doesn't scare me.

"Get back!" He says.

But no…..no…..I heard doubt in that voice. "You will kill the man Spencer loves?"

"What?!"

"He is mine Hotchner…he will never be yours." And I wrap my hand around the firearm and take it sharply away from his hand….and he doesn't resist. I think he is mildly surprised that I don't keep it in my hand though….I stand back from him and remove the clip and then toss the two bits to separate parts of the room. "Well Hotchner – that's that problem sorted out…now you are going to be shown exactly how fucking angry I am with you and this pissing system.

"Yours? You abandoned him!"

"Fucking didn't!"

"Where were you when he was bleeding and dying? You were playing your games with another man!" He was trying to distract me with his filthy words and deceptions.

"I was coming to him! I was on my way!" I am walking towards him now. "I was stopped by the fucking cops for speeding!" And I take his arm… "You have no sodding idea what I went through to try to get back to him! I begged them to help." I move and stand with my back against the door. "I asked them to go and check….I knew something was wrong. I asked them…I asked them to go and check on him."

I could see something…something in Hotchner's eyes now…

"You alerted them?"

"Who the hell did you think?"

"Then where were you?"

"I got fucking arrested. I got treated like a mad man….I was hacked at and electrocuted and fuck only knows what!" And I am walking towards him again. "And finally I get back…finally I find my way back to him and you tell me he is dead."

He is backing off….I am walking faster. "Do you have any idea how I felt? I've been in mourning! You fucking bastard! I tried to kill myself I was in so much emotional pain!" And I have this lovely way of smacking brains out…..it's called 'attack with no warning' HAHA!

And my fist makes contact with the side of his head….and in my weakened condition it doesn't stave the side of his head in….I see his hands come up to defend, but the stupid son of a whore isn't fast enough. He staggers sideways and I see him moving for the other gun on the side there….and I leap.

-o-o-o-

It's like a dream when I wake up….I know he has been here….I can still feel him on me….can still feel his arms holding me….I take a deep painless breath and roll onto my back…there is something twisted around my fingers. I hold it up and look at it.

Hair.

Long strands of dark hair.

Hair I would know anywhere and my heart skips a beat and I smile a proper smile for the first time in I don't know how long….and for once I feel maybe everything will be alright.

-o-o-o-

He is on me before I can defend….I've never seen a human who can move with such speed. I am on my back and he is astride me and the language coming from his mouth is not recognisable….the words so obscene the anger in this man is something rare.

"We can talk about this." I grab his wrists which are there ready for attack…. "You need to get off me now."

"Or what Hotchner?" and a twist and a push and the fist is smashing my mouth and no amount of twisting and writhing under this person is going to get him off me.

"This is assault of a Federal Agent. Get off me now while you still have a chance……………………."

-o-o-o-

I hold the hair against my face and I can feel tears trickling down the side of my face. He was here…he had been here with me….The memories were true…I don't know where he is now…but I know he will be back.

"I'm so sorry Floyd….for everything….please come back." I whisper into the lock of hair and kiss it gently. "Please come back for me.

-o-o-o-

A boot to the ribs…

A boot to the head…….he is still trying to get away…I decide to keep up the kicking for now….eventually he will stop…eventually he will….he will have to. My eyes keep glancing over at the bathroom door and I get some happy thoughts racing through my head as this sweatpants and Tshirt clad sonofabitch whore dog tries to crawl away from me.

-o-o-o-

I can't move….I need my gun….I need to get out of here….moving slowly….

And another kick to my head …… it starts to go foggy….and things are slowing down…..

Then nothing.

-o-o-o-

I watch as he slumps like the worthless fuck he is to the floor and then I drag him by his bare feet towards the bathroom. Firstly I let go of him and put the plug in the tub…then I turn on the hot tap…Now back to the scum on the floor….

"No point in this if you're not awake….time to wake up and learn why you don't lie to me."

I take the back of his Tshirt and drag him to the toilet…and pull him up into position.

"You are lucking I haven't decided to fuck you yet you bit of slime."

Head forced down the toilet and then I flush. For a while nothing happens…and I feel slight disappointment that he is going to just flop there and drown….but then it happens…he moves and he struggles…

"Yay Hotchner!" I sound joyful. "You are making my job such fun." And he is pulling and flailing uselessly under my weight as I hold him in place….A quick glance to the tub shows me that it will be ready soon….I can see the steam rising off it and it makes me smile….

Not a small smirk….

But a big tooth filled smile….the sort you only see if I am about to cause a lot of pain on someone.

-o-o-o-

I am trying to work out what happened….I am trying to work out why I am laying on the bathroom floor being stripped by this man….He is not big….he is smaller than me….he is not well muscled….he is average…his face apart from the sores around his nose and mouth is actually pretty and feminine, but as this person whose name has slipped my mind turns me over and starts doing something else I start to move again….I can feel him…probing at me with his fingers….with his mouth…when I try to kick out and get out from under this new attack he moves up my body and sits across the backs of my legs and then grabs my hair…………..

-o-o-o-

The bastard has got a lot of life left in him….

I grab his hair and smack his face on the bathroom floor….He continues to try to move…so I pull his head up and smack it down hard again….and the movement stops…..Oh well…a bit of resistance would have been good….this was too much though….I get into position and hold his hips and with one hand I undo the front of my jeans and the other keeps him in place….

I take his arse.

I don't prepare…I just tear into him…and it feels good….

I sort of think about the syphilis infection I am carrying…but I doubt he will live to have to worry about that….Now my smile is more of a snarl….and I enjoy myself with him….I am finished and giving him my little soldiers just as the water reaches the top of the tub.

Good timing.

I move back and do my jeans back up again then drag him to the scalding water. Not the easiest thing to do….getting Hotchner into the water….but with a tidal wave exiting the tub I manage….I then turn off the water and stand back and watch….

…………..His eyes open and his mouth opens to scream….so I reach over and put my hand on his bare chest and push him under the water. Hands grab my wrists and for a second I am nearly dragged into the water too….but I manage to pull back.

Then I step right back away from the tub and just watch….I watch as he slowly sits up and attempts to pull himself out of the tub…I watch him flail and pull uselessly at the edge of the tub before sliding back down again….

I see the water splashing….I see it's slow down…and I eventually see no movement….and now I step back.

I grab his hair and lift his face above the water and then pull him out…one very red burned mess.

"You will never see Spencer again." I say to him and as he lays gasping for air and life on the floor I kick him a few times then walk to the bedroom… I use his own cuffs to attach him to the bathroom radiator. "Do you have a message you want me to pass onto him?"

"You won't get away with this." He mutters.

"I already have." I tell him. "I screwed you over….That's all I wanted. You tried to take something from me which wasn't yours for the taking. You will never make that error again Hotchner." Then my boots say hello to his groin…and then to his face.

When I leave….about half an hour later you cant really see it is him anymore…Before I go I sit with the bruised form slumped on the floor and have a smoke….this is good…this is how life should be more often.

I finish my smoke and put it out on smooth bit of flesh just below his navel and then I am ready to go. I take my dog end with me….and slip it into my pocket…

Now to go and get Spencer. I'm taking him.

He is mine.

-o-o-o-

I lay in my bed with the little bit of paper in one hand and the hair in the other.

And I wait.

* * *


	31. Chapter 31 Leaving

Chapter 31

Leaving

* * *

Time to go.

I am back in my basement home but I know I can't stay here…and I know Hotchner will come looking for me…and I know he will try to remove Spencer from me. Therefore I have to go and get Spence ready to leave. I still have the van in case he finds walking difficult. I am aware………………I know he is unwell…but I can cure that problem. I just need time…I need them to keep away until I have fixed this problem.

Quickly I ready myself. Pick at my teeth and check my armpits for unwanted smells and swiftly make my way back to his room. This time I'm not thinking of hiding away. This time I am going to tell the bastards that Spence is mine and I have come to claim him. Already my feet are feeling better than they were but not as good as they could have been. But booting that sonofabitch Hotchner half to death didn't do me any favours.

I run up the stairs to the door at the top and stand for a while just looking at it. Just out there and down the corridor is Spencer and my brain is still struggling with that idea.

I had mourned him for so long. I had said my goodbyes to him…and now…there he is…I close my eyes tightly and lean my forehead on the door and my head is spinning and I feel a layer of sweat creep out and cover my skin.

Now I am slipping through the door and it is daytime….and someone will see me this time and I don't give a damn…I don't care….my only thoughts now are to get to Spence and see that face and touch that skin. I need to run my tongue over his skin and taste him. Feel him on my lips…brush his hair with my fingers. Love him and comfort him.

"Excuse me."

Crap….I'm not even at his room and I am being stopped. I place a hand on the cold yellow wall and slowly turn to see a nurse in a starched white uniform standing there with a frown on her face. "What?" I ask.

"Who are you?" She snaps at me and I can see that she is nothing…she is a maggot….she is not a problem…and so I turn and I walk again towards Spencer's room. "Do you have a visitors pass?" She is asking now…and so I stop again. I can see his door from where I am standing but she won't let me go there.

"I don't need one." I say between my clenched teeth and start to walk again.

"Everyone needs a pass sir." And she touches me. Her hand is on my shoulder and she would like me to stop but I keep walking.

It's not easy to ignore shit on your shoulder but I do….I keep walking forward and my eyes are locked on the door I need to enter. If she follows then it will be the last thing she does. I have a feeling that she is trying to pull me around to face her but I keep going and she walks sharp quick steps behind me.

"I will call security. This is a hospital. You need to leave."

"Oh it's not a prison then. Good." My hand is on the door handle and I am pushing open the door….I can smell him…I can smell his sweetness enveloping the room…now that my senses are back as they should be. Now that I can think properly…I don't know how I missed it. A quick glance at Spencer lets me know he is sleeping….the gently hushing sound of the machinery is filling the room….so I turn…grab the missy starched arse and pull her into the room with me.

"I need to tell you something and you are going to stand there and you are going to listen." Ah good…HAHA…she looks like she is going to piss herself with fear. "I am taking Dr Reid with me. We are leaving…do I need to sign him out…fill in a form? Ah no matter….here's the thing….you are going to help me out as I know he is hurting…I know he is in pain….but he is mine…and as such I will do with him as I wish. Does that make sense to you?"

"You – you c c cant take him!" She looks alarmed and is walking towards him…. "He won't survive out there! He needs oxygen. His lungs are…………"

"Fixable….fixable…I can do that."

"You are insane! You can't take him with you. He needs constant medical care."

"He will get it."

"You will kill him!"

"So fucking what!? He's mine!"

"Thanks."

We both shut up and look over at Spence who is looking back at us.

"Spence. Get ready babes."

And the nurse moves so she is standing between the two of us…and now…now Spence is awake and I don't want to break her neck while he is watching….

"He is going no where!" And her voice is raised and I can see fire and anger behind her eyes, so….well…..it sort of happens quickly…and probably Spence sees it too…but there is not much I could do about it…I put a hand on her neck and an hand on her starched face and ………….

"Floyd!"

Fuck he saw.

"Babes she was going to stop me." I drop her to the floor and kick her under the bed.

"I can't….I can't!" And he is looking panicked and shit…..everything is going wrong… so I move around the bed and rip the drip from his arm.

"You don't need that…I will fix you….you need to come with me." And I pull the covers back off his bed. He is thin….Hell he has lost a lot of weight…but then so have I…we both need time to heal up and repair. Pulling him off the bed I snatch the needle from the back of his hand and see his knees fold under him.

My hands slide up under his arms and my arm wraps around him. "It's ok…I have you."

"I'm meant to be healing." He wheezes at me.

"I will sort you out…but I have to get you out of this place babes. One foot in front of the other sweet. Just walk with me and we can get out of this damned place and I will fix you."

He nods…he knows….He knows me too well to doubt what I am saying to him….

He knows me too well to fight what I want. What I need. I drape the sheets from his bed over the side so nurse fuckwitts is a bit hidden by the bedding…I open the door.

"We can't…people….people will – want to….."

"Hush Spence. I've sorted it. Just do what I say and we will be gone." I can hear his laboured breaths and I can feel the lightness of his body. I look at him ….I see him in profile and I want him right there in the hospital corridor…I can feel how much I need him…so I hold him tighter and the two of us walk slowly to the doorway which eventually leads down to the basement.

My worry now is that Hotchner might get help. My worry is that they will come looking for me….they will come looking for me here. I have no time to fuck Spencer now….however much my syphilitic body is yearning for him…I will have to wait.

-o-o-o-

I hurt.

I don't think that there is any part of my body which isn't screaming in pain. He has left me bleeding and torn and bruised cuffed to the radiator…I can't get to my cell when I hear it ring….I can't tell Rossi that I am here.

"Hotch…wondering where you are."

Short message. He knows where I am staying. I just need to hope that he comes looking for me. From where I am I am able to pull a towel close and wrap it around my blistered body. When I probe my teeth with my tongue I can feel they are loosened. Carefully I put my fingers to my smashed mouth and tentatively feel for the damage he did to me. I need to stop him…I need to stop him before Reid gets this treatment too – but I can't get away…and my eyes are so swollen I can hardly open them. I can feel sticky goo collecting on my dark eye lashes…and I try to move…and pull my arm away from the radiator but I can't escape the bonds Flanders put on me.

If he did this to me….if this is a normal reaction for him…what the hell is he going to do to Spencer. The thought scares me….

I pull fruitlessly at the cuffs again and I can feel them cutting into my wrist. It's no good…I cant escape it…I will have to wait until Rossi decides it is time to come looking for me….hopefully it wont be too long. He will…I really hope ….think maybe the same people who attacked Reid have come for me….that should get him motivated to come for me.

Calling for help doesn't work…I try but nothing happens…my voice is too weak from where my neck and moreover my throat…swollen and slowly closing up…Please someone come looking for me.

I can't get comfortable….I'm sure…I am almost certain that he abused me in ways no man should be when I was unconscious. The animal took me when I couldn't fight him. I want to lean on the cold tiles of the wall and sit and wait… but not only does it hurt to sit but the way I have been restrained means that all I have to lean against is the radiator – which incidentally is turned on. It would be. It is winter and cold. I would have complained if it hadn't been on.

I sigh and slowly and carefully lower my battered body to the floor. At least I get a small amount of comfort from the white – once white – bathroom floor. They are now blood smeared and dirty. Semen and blood – a vile monstrous creature and it hurts me even more to know what his ultimate plan is.

When finally the hammering on the door sounds I try to open my mouth and call out. "I am here." But I can't. The muscles in my face have locked my jaw shut now…and all I can do is lay there and shake with the pain.

"Hotch!" I can hear my name being called by Rossi and I try to move…I try to grab something and throw it…anything…something…just something so they know I am here….but it's good…all's good I don't need to.

I hear the door give with a cracking pop as weight is thrown against the not very strong door…and I think it was probably immediately evident that something had happened.

"Aaron!" Rossi calling me again and still all I can do is lay here and hope he hurry's up. It's not long until I hear him. "My god." And a hand touching me. "Aaron what the hell happened."

I try to whisper to Dave…I try t tell him what happened but my lips wont form the words and my mind is beginning to get confused. "Reid." I finally manage to say…

"Reid? Reid did this?" and I want to scream 'NO!' but my world is slipping into darkness as Dave pulls out his cell phone and calls for the EMT's "It's alright…you will be alright…help is on the way." But it is Spencer who needs the help. I will be fine….eventually…I will recover….but Spencer? I can't have this happen to him.

-o-o-o-

By the time the EMT's arrive he has slipped into unconsciousness.

He is having problems breathing and they intubate him wrap him plastic film.

They tell me his has been burned and beaten. His neck and throat has suffered badly from what appears to be kicks…and all I can think about is Reid. He said it was Reid….didn't he? And so I make a call to Morgan.

"I need you to go and check up on Reid. Something has happened….I will let you know when I know more…just make sure Reid is where he is meant to be." As the crime scene people have arrived now I decide to stay with Aaron.

Immersed in scalding water…kicked and possibly raped. They will get him to hospital…they will check his bones for breaks…nasty marks on his ribs. A prolonged and vicious attack, but very few signs that he defended. This worries me even more. Why would he not defend…unless it was an attack from someone he knew….No signs that shots were fired….in fact his ankle gun is still sitting on the side there.

They stuck needles in Hotch and gave him fluids and I watch as the ambulance rushes him away.

The call from Derek comes just as I am getting back into my car. "Reid has gone…the duty nurse was found with her neck broken."

Reid.

* * *

**A/N: to be continued.**

* * *


End file.
